An Ice Heart Melts With Warmth
by LilyHellsing
Summary: Teenage Bart is being stalked by Sideshow Bob...again. When Springfield High School goes on a ski trip, Bob sneaks into Bart's cabin in hopes of killing. Who knew a simple act of Mother Nature would trap them, forcing them to help one another to survive?
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is my first attempt at a Simpson story and I can only say I pray I get the character's personalities down. I know many people don't like the idea of Bob, an old guy, with Bart Simpson who's thought of as a young boy. Well, two things; one, he's sixteen in this story. And two…what the hell are you doing reading this story if you don't like it?! XD Anyway, my updates will be random, depending on my other stories and reviews as well as the shit load of work I get from school. But I will update at least once a week, promise!

My idea: At the age of sixteen, Bart Simpson is having a great life! He's got several girls falling at his feet and the boys looking up at him with awe. And a stalker! Oh wait…that's not a good. The stalker, of course, being Sideshow Bob watches him through high school. One day near Christmas, Springfield High School goes on a skiing trip; Bob sneaks into the cabin Bart has. **Who knew a simple act of Mother Nature would trap them, forcing them to help one another to survive?**

* * *

The bell rang loud, echoing through the cool crisp air in the morning. It was winter and it took only one glance to realize it; the trees were naked and shivered with the caress of the wind.

The leaves, what little were left and un raked, danced circles around them, as if teasing them with their freedom to roam. The skies were covered nearly constantly with clouds of light blue and gray, threatening emptily to snow. The only time rays of sunlight came through the thick mess of winter clouds was when the school bell rang at precisely eight o'clock.

In the distance, as teenagers entered the newly built Springfield High School, they could hear a very familiar sound of wheels hitting the sidewalk. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was racing their way to school in hopes of not being tardy. To a total stranger, however, they would probably stand there on the sidewalk for a moment. They'd wonder faintly what or who it could be.

It'd take only a second for them to get their answer; Bart Simpson.

On his old dark blue skateboard, he'd nearly tear off the sidewalk itself as he flung himself towards the school doors. This was, of course, natural and normal to the people resident of Springfield. He'd rush and rarely be late, but it appeared that today…his luck ran out.

Just as he jumped up over the stairs, a smile stretched across his face…a gasp escaped his lips. The doors were slammed shut, making him collide painfully into them before falling down the steps. Groaning, he rubbed his head and glanced up to see a very smug Groundskeeper Willy.

Growling with annoyance and hatred, he stood up and kicked an invisible can before his foot. He'd just have to roam around town until lunch and then sneak in. But what to do around this boring town without a friend?

* * *

In the bushes near by sat a stalker. The bush was near a concrete bench and it was a great place for a man to hide. Well, the man would have to have long spike like hair that was as red as the changing leaves.

For four months now, Sideshow Bob had been free from jail. His last attempt to kill the Simpsons back in Italy was rather pathetic and he winced at the memory of it. No, it wasn't the fact that he failed (again) that made him wince; it was the memory of his…family.

His wife left him with his son, the very mirror like image of him. She claimed she didn't want to be married with a failure, a man who couldn't even kill a simple child! Not only did she hate to be with a failure, she said, she worried about his sanity. While he was charming, he was also dangerous as he had proven with the opera attempt. What if he lost it and killed them, she shouted as she slammed the door shut.

The sound of a gasp, grunt, and growl (Three G's!) brought him back to reality. Looking up from the bush he hid in, he could see from a distance a very mature looking Bart Simpson. He sat on the ground, his skateboard slowly wheeling away from the force of the sudden stop. If Bart was as smart as Bob, he would have cursed Newton's Laws instead of Willy; Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

The ex-clown assistant could only smirk as he watched the boy stand up and walk away, mumbling under his breath. Well…actually…the last thing he could call him was 'boy'. Bart had grown so much!

His hair was still spiked but slighter longer, his yellow skin yellow as the sun…a sort of healthy glow. His eyes were bigger and showed very little maturity but plenty of life, happiness, and wisdom. He had gotten taller but, from what Bob could see, was still shorter than him by at least a foot.

So many things have changed since he was sent to jail. This was but his third day spying on his old enemy. Faintly, Bob wondered if Bart even remembered him. Did he think about him every day like Bob did? Or has Bart just…forgotten all about him?

Somehow, that thought stung more than he expected.

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Next chapter: Bart's thoughts, what he does till lunch and he might realize he isn't as straight as he thinks he is! Review please! 


	2. Chapter 2

I'd like to say **thanks** to the people who reviewed my fist chapter; **RentFreak**, **Devil's** **Backbone** & **Opaque** **Opal**!

* * *

The 16 year old famously known for his old pranks sulked around the center of Springfield. There was a courthouse, a few bare trees, and the bitter wind near by as he made his way to a wooden bench.

I say 'old', dear readers, because around the common age of 13, he grew tired of jokes and pranks. The feeling he got when he was eight wore off through the years. The feeling of seeing someone grow anger or even jump in fright finally disappeared.

Sure he liked pulling pranks once or twice a month, just to see people's reactions and all. He liked to play jokes on people just to make sure that his name stayed famous and well-known. His interest, however, turned when he hit the age of 13. What did it turn to, you might ask?

Girls.

That's what was on his mind nearly every minute of every waking day. He noticed them, really noticed them for the first time. Not as a target to throw stink bombs at; not something for him to stick his used bubblegum on; not as the reason scary spiders lived….but as girls.

It all started when he first saw Jessica in church. The girl who was his ex who got him in a boat load of trouble. Every Sunday, his mother would make him go to church. It was difficult to say if he believed in God or not; there were many things that supported that theory of him being real but…he doubted it sometimes.

Anyway, when he saw her at church as he normally did every Sunday, his mouth dropped. Her hair was braided back, the darkness of it shining in the light from the sunrays shining through the stained glass windows. Her eyes were covered with eye shadow and mascara, proving that she had grown up as well. Her clothes, close to being 'sinful' in church, clung to her. They hugged every curve her body held, hugged her newly forming breasts.

Bart smile just at the memory of it as he walked around the statue in the park. They had become a couple for several months…until Sherri stole him away. Right afterwards, perhaps two months, Terri copied her sister's actions, making them a couple. After that year, he decided to become single and stay it for a while; never go out with someone just because you're bored, he learned. It came back to haunt you.

Plus, being single was easier to flirt with girls.

And since nearly half the population of high school girls fell for him, he was considered 'cool' and popular. Many other guys noticed how much action he got and almost worshiped everywhere where he stepped. He was famous not only for his old pranks, but his 'charm'.

But lately, his attention and interest strayed slowly away from girls. It was like a rock at the beach, erosion in a way. It seemed like the very same thing that happened when he lost interest in pranks. But where was his attention going now?

School work?!

Bart snickered aloud at first, then as he thought this thought over, it became a full loud laugh. Whoever passed by would have thought he was insane and weird to laugh so loud, so hysterical for no reason. Lucky for him, however, he saw no one near by.

Or…was there?

* * *

Bob walked a few yards away, stopping when he stopped, walking when he walked…hiding when he looked. If he hadn't worn a very English black hat, his huge hair would have given him away. It was amazing at such a sophisticated man could look so…so…clownish.

His over sized feet went on their own accord as he grew lost in thought. The boy looked troubled…thoughtful…pensive, perhaps. While he walked around the city's center, he almost ran into two trees and by the third time, succeeded. While Bob followed the young lad around town, he watched him laugh hysterically.

What in the world could have made him laugh so hard?

No matter, Bob thought to himself. With a smirk, he followed Bart back to school. Already, several hours passed and it was noon. He watched from his original hiding spot as Bart snuck back inside.

This made Bob chuckle; Bart Simpson sneaking **into **school.

* * *

Next chapter: School, Bob, & Milhouse. By the way, I might make a fan fiction about Bob/OFC. Basically, the high school Bart Simpson makes a new friend who has a classy side, yet trouble-making side just like he does! While spying and planning to kill the Simpson boy, Sideshow Bob watches the girl as well. Problem is, she doesn't really want to be with anyone…so he showers her with unwanted attention. Yeah, anyway, tell me if you think I should write it or not by review! 


	3. Chapter 3

I've decided after Christmas that I'll post a new Sideshow Bob/ OFC story, that way I can write a few chapters ahead of time.

The idea is this: Bart Simpson finds a girl who's a trouble maker and yet classy. While he struggles with being bi with a crush on his old bully Nelson, she helps him. And if the whole 'crush' thing wasn't bad enough, Sideshow Bob is stalking him once more! One night, however, he sneaks into the teenage Bart's room and finds a girl sleeping there instead. He realizes that that girl is the same one who he spotted with Bart earlier. His interest in her blooms as she remains oblivious.

It's better than it sounds, really. I need to tweak the idea a bit more but yeah, that's the outline lol. Now to the story! Oh and by the way, I added a new idea into this story so it'd make more sense for Bob to be on the ski trip…you'll see; just read.

* * *

Bart smirked smugly, a very uncharacteristic trait he had recently come to adore. Willy the Groundskeeper might have locked him out in the morning, forcing him to miss four classes and possibly get detention for it, but he was back inside! Ha!

That's what made him stop and hesitated. He was in school…when he could have stayed outside and skipped. What in the world forced him to do that?! "D'Oh!" He muttered softly, wincing physically at his own stupidity. Willy was doing him a favor by locking him out, and now he just snuck back in.

Ignoring it for now, he walked to his fifth period class; English. That was a class that he recently came to dread. It was full of girls who gaped and drooled over him and guys who basically bowed with awe at the sight of him. In the previous chapter, I mentioned that his attention and interests strayed from girls recently. So this, readers, is why he came to dread the class.

At one time, he used to love and cherish the ability to order around a guy; get me a pencil, finish this worksheet…they'd do anything for the popular guy. And the girls would help him with his homework too, when he flirted with them enough. Even though the teacher wasn't nice, he wasn't mean either.

Sitting in the back, as per usual, he waited to see the teacher walk in. Any minute now he'd get called up to the office and put in detention for 'skipping' his classes. Although he'd like to protest that it wasn't his fault, because for the firs time ever it wasn't, they'd ignore him.

Plus it was his fault for coming back; he could have just been absent and said he was sick.

"That's weak!" Milhouse exclaimed with a frown, obviously somewhere between upset and pissed off. "We have a substitute today! Now we'll have to work!"

Bart had nearly forgotten the break their teacher promised them today. But if there was to be a substitute, there would be work, according to the handbook of Springfield High School. Groaning, he rubbed his temples and wondered if this day could get worse.

"Good afternoon class…" A very familiar yet vague voice came from the doorway.

His day just got worse.

"My name is Mr. Terwilliger but most of you know me as…" The voice carried on, the owner of such powerful vocal cords walking towards the chalk board in front of the class.

Bart looked up, his mind racing to think of who the voice belonged to. He had heard it so many times before…but from where? A few years back…it was…

"SIDESHOW BOB!" Finally the teenage Simpson looked up to see a very familiar yet frightening man before him. The scream left his lips on accident, on sheer impulse. After all, who wouldn't scream the name of a man who attempted to murder them several times in the past?

The ex-clown smirked, watching the boy try to control not only himself but his fear and embarrassment as well. "Yes, that. I am your substitute teacher until your teacher gets back. He got…food poisoning and will be out for two weeks." Bart's gulp was heard loudly.

Through out the rest of the class, Bart couldn't focus on the words Bob spoke. He could only hear echoes and blurs of his sentences, of his lesson. He felt dizzy and his vision went white, threatening to make him black out. Inhaling sharply, he forced himself not pass out. Who knew if he'd ever awake again!

"Mr. Simpson!" An irritated voice finally rang out loud enough for him to pay attention.

"Huh?"

"For the fourth time, Mr. Simpson, do you have your permission slip for the ski trip next week?" Sideshow Bob questioned, his eyes glittering with annoyance and anger.

With clumsiness, he took out the signed piece of paper and handed it over. It took all his self-control not to wince physically when Bob's elegant fingers brushed against his. It wasn't fear he felt…it was…it was…difficult to explain. There was something that made his heart jump and he wondered what it was.

"Bart? Bart, the bell rang, come on. We gotta go to P.E." Milhouse's voice reached him past his thoughts. Looking up somewhat startled, he smiled weakly and nodded, following his friend like a mindless drone.

Sideshow Bob stood there, watching the young man walk off with his friend. It appeared that he was in shell-shock. Had his presence really caused that much of a disturbance? He chuckled at the thought.

He'd wait and watch him for a week, then off to the ski resort…where Bart will had a most unfortunate of accidents.

* * *

Next chapter: Bart's thoughts of his sexuality and we get a look at the Simpson house. Then, maybe, the ski trip! Review please! 


	4. Chapter 4

As Bart finished the rest of his day, he felt…distant and dazed to say the least. His mind was far, far away. During class he paid attention enough to where he could pass, but found himself daydreaming. This time, however, he paid no attention at all. His interest was far from school work. It was not a daydream he thought of, it was memories he reviewed and thoughts of worry and fear.

One of his thoughts was on Bob of course. He was a substitute here now. It was obviously, painfully obviously perhaps, that he poisoned the real teacher to get that job. Why? Because he wanted to kill Bart. It had been several years since he last saw him and still the man wanted him dead! That guy could hold grudges!

But the question he really thought about was…would the school allow a sub to join them on the ski trip? It didn't take a genius to realize that was the place Bob would try to destroy the Simpson boy. Perhaps he could ask Principal Skinner casual like…perhaps during detention today!

Another thought of his, a very important and big one, was his…interests. As said in the previous chapters, he went from pulling pranks to flirting with girls. Recently he felt the same distraction, the same loss of attention he did in pranks when he hit puberty. What did this mean though?

He looked over the girls in his class as they all walked out. The bell had ringed and he hadn't even heard the loudness of it, didn't hear it echo in the air. That's how deep his thinking was. It was simply on impulse and habit that he started leaving.

Back to his worries and thoughts, Bart growled softly as he walked home. The winter air was crisp just like in the morning. However, since it was late into the evening, it had gotten colder. The wind was harsh and blew against him, as if trying to warn him not to go home. The leave flew wildly, hitting him a few times. Grimacing, he kept walking.

As he passed a few of his fellow peers, he subconsciously looked up and down on a guy. The guy happened to be Nelson! He looked extremely…well, different. He looked more mature and grown up since the 5th grade. His arms were muscular, considering how much he beat people up. And his…

Bart suddenly slammed into a tree from shock.

Since when did he start looking at guys?! At Nelson?! Since when did he feel the same feelings when he looked at girls to looking at guys?!

**…And since when did that tree appear?**

As he kept walking, he felt his cheeks burn. He liked girls! Girls, girls, girls and more girls! He had gone out with several in the past, so there was no way he could be…gay. Right?

Then again, he thought in the back of his mind, there was such of thing called being bi. Bisexual simply meant that he liked both genders. Was that normal? Surely over half the nation was bi but…would it be considered normal and be accepted in the small town of Springfield?

In church he learned about homosexuality…was bisexuality the same? Was it sinning? Then again, what did he care? Bart went to church simply for his mother but he didn't really believe every word the preacher preached.

He winced inwardly, thinking of his mother. What if he was bi? Would they accept him? Would Lisa turn her back on him and call him not only stupid but gay as well? Would Marge disown him and make sure Maggie forgets about her big brother? Would Homer strangle him?

He was worrying too much. He wasn't even sure if he was bi! He just happened to glance at his bully and…and…stare. Stare and think if he was going to get beat up! Yeah, that sounded right.

But it was a lie, and Bart knew.

Lucky for him, he was able to push these thoughts out of his mind. His house looked very warm and welcoming despite his previous thoughts. With a smile, he made a mad dash to the door. His skin felt as though patches of it were ice!

When he got inside, he slammed the door shut and slid to the floor. The warmth of the fire reached all the way to the door and he smiled, feeling his legs grow weak. Feeling all his limbs grow weak, actually.

Before he lost all function of his limbs, he walked over to the living room and jumped in front of the fire. This was his favorite spot since he could feel toasty but not get burnt to a crisp.

The fire gave off such incredible heat that he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had a difficult time staying awake. Faintly, from the shadows of the wall, he could see that the sun was setting. He could see a few shadows from the moonlight and wondered if he was hallucinating.

Why?

Because he saw a shadow with the hair of Sideshow Bob.

Too tired to worry about it, he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

His dreams were full of nightmares. They all involved a knife, Sideshow Bob, his family rejecting him and…sex. This was the part of the dream…excuse me, _nightmare_ that he felt confused about. There was nobody else except Bob trying to kill him in the dream. So how did the feelings of pleasure appear?

This brought up the subject of being bi.

Even when his mind started to slowly come out of the dreaming haze, he could vaguely remember one part. It was a disturbing part of the dream, nightmare, sorry. It was…very weird. Not only was it weird because of the context but because…he liked it.

_

* * *

Sideshow Bob let out a crazed laugh, his palm tree hair flying in the air. Bart felt like running but he couldn't move. Finally able to tear his eyes off of the man, he gasped to see he was tied to a table._

_"Bart Simpson…you've crossed me for the last time!" His voice was booming, frightening._

_Instead of stabbing him like Bart predicted, Bob tore off the teen's clothes. Bart let out a soft gasp, his eyes widened with fear. He felt Bob's hand roam on his body. It wasn't cold like he thought it'd be…in fact, it was warm. _

* * *

That's all he could remember. That's all he **wanted **to remember. Bart jolted up and winced. From lying in that position all night, he felt his limbs become sore. Not only was soreness one of the things he felt but…it was something else.

Glancing down at his lap, he gasped aloud and felt his jaw drop. Apparently…he had a very wet dream that he could not, thankfully, remember. How many people came in and saw, he wondered?!

Getting up, he ran to the bathroom. It was torture to dream about the man who wanted him dead, but to have a _wet _dream about him…Oh crap. Bart thought, wanting to slam his head into the wall. He had school with the man today! How could he go there and face him without blushing with a nose bleed?!

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Next chapter: School with Bob and the ski trip! Review please! 


	5. Chapter 5

A heavy sigh escaped from Bart Simpson's lips. When he stepped outside, he felt nothing. The wind was blowing, he saw a few pieces of trash fly along with it but he didn't feel it. The clouds were dark and grey with the sound of thunder echoing loudly but he did not hear it. Rain came from those clouds, slamming into any surface they could land on…but he did not feel it.

Earlier when he had awoken with a…messy and sticky situation, he was stunned to say the least. He was shocked and stunned at how he had dreamt of Sideshow Bob. Well, actually, it made sense that he'd dream of the man trying to kill him since the man's presence brought back so many unpleasant memories. But it was the way he had gotten excited through the dream, through hearing Bob's voice, that made him shocked.

His father had walked out of his room as Bart got ready for school. It was normal for his father to be late…but this time, it was different. Homer Simpson was drunk; at eight in the morning! So Bart kept silent, figuring something had to be wrong. There was a time, he learned in the past, to keep silent and to talk.

When he had gotten up from his very cold oatmeal, one thing led to another. It started off as a simple question, a very stupid obvious simply question and ended up with him being choked. It was a cycle, Bart noted. When his father got mad at a simple little thing, whether or not provoked by Bart, he was always being choked.  
So now he walked to school in the cold wet weather. He had been so busy trying to escape his horrible house that he had forgotten to wear warm clothing. His normal dark blue jeans and a short sleeved red shirt was all he wore; no scarves or gloves, not even a jacket. (Remember everyone, he's older now so no shorts)

He was so numb, so lost in thought that he failed to feel a pair of eyes on him.

* * *

Sideshow Bob sat in his very warm car in front of the Simpson home. It hadn't changed in the years he was in jail; a few pieces of paint was torn, a few holes and dings but that was it. Otherwise, it looked like only a day had passed since the last time he saw it.

He had arrived there a few hours after dawn, sipping his very hot coffee. When the clock turned eight, he witnessed Bart Simspon sprint out the door of his house. He wondered what in the world could have given the boy such a fright. His question was answer as soon as it was asked; Homer started to run out shouting, but walked in once he realized how cold it was.

And apparently he was the only one of the Simpson males to realize how cold it was. Bart wore no protection against the bitter wind and cold rain drops. How could the young man really be that stupid?! Or perhaps he was just frightened into stupidity.

Bob followed him for a mile and frowned. His damn conscious was nagging him about how cold and miserable Bart must be. That's when he realized something; he'd have to get Simpson to trust him a little if he wanted to go to the ski trip. True that the Principal would ignore the teen's pleas, the mere idea of it would alarm other kids as well. So, he'd do something nice for the boy…

"Mr. Simpson…" Bob called out from the rolled down window. He was as close to the curb as he could get. It looked like the yellow boy was storming and brewing his thoughts deeply. Either that or the wind overtook Bob's voice. "Bart!" He shouted finally.

Finally the boy looked over at him and stared. Instead of screaming like he had done in the past, and what Bob guessed what he'd do, he simply stared. A few moments passed until the boys rosy cheeks turned even redder. He didn't seem frightened, just…embarrassed, Bob noted.

"What do you want?" He spoke in a careful tone.

Bob replied smoothly, "Since we're both heading to school and since one of us is going to catch an illness without clothes…" The boy colored at this, "Would you like for me to give you a ride?"

That's when Bart finally noticed how cold it was. He shivered and his teeth chattered. "Why should I-I trust you?"

"Why would I destroy my chances of starting a normal life by harming a student? If you went missing for five minutes, I'd be the prime suspect." Bob stated the painfully obvious.

At the moment, Bart couldn't care less. The cold was really getting to him, nipping at his naked skin. Finally he slid into the car and off they went. Through the whole ride, however, Bart couldn't stop blushing and thinking of his first wet dream.

* * *

School for Bart was a blur. The morning classes seemed to blend into one and lunch was the same, except with a bad smell. He honestly wondered sometimes, as he poked his hamburger with a fork, how the school managed to keep passing Health Inspection.

His afternoon classes, specifically English, were nerve-wreaking. When he first sat in the back, as per usual, he couldn't help but think, "What if Bob knows? What if he knows that I dreamt about him in a dirty way?"  
Of course, his mind argued back, there was no way. He hadn't told anyone, barely spoke a word, so there was absolutely no way that Sideshow Bob could know about his wet dream. He was safe…or so he thought.

"Bart Simpson…" The man's powerful voice rang out in the silent classroom.

"I didn't do it!" He shouted on impulse, nearly falling off his desk with a yelp.

Everyone snickered quietly, some glancing over at him. Although it was normal for the popular guy to screw up now and again, this was just beyond embarrassing. Bart was thankful that he stayed in his seat.

"…I'm sure you didn't. As I was saying, Mr. Simpson, please move up to the first seat. Your grades, it would appear, are slipping and I intend to keep them up. After all, this is English which you speak; you should pass with flying colors." Mr. Terwilliger said darkly.

Subconsciously, Bart thought as he walked over to the front row, _"You have no trouble keeping something else of me up…"_ Immediately his face went dark red. Looking down on his notes, he pretended to write as Bob talked about Shakespeare.

The class went by quickly and at the end, Bob spoke up, "Remember, tomorrow is the ski trip. And Bart…can I talk to you for a second?"

When everyone left, Bart slowly stood from his seat as if realizing class was over. "Yes…sir?" He hesitantly asked.

Bob said calmly, "Tomorrow during the trip…please bring warm clothes. I don't need a student of mine to get sick and…die." At the end, despite his calm voice, there was a trace of insanity.

Bart hesitated and nodded, quickly running out of class.

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Next chapter: Ski trip! Review please! 


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to **beriipop**for reviewing!

* * *

Sideshow Bob gave a heavy sigh as he watched the last school bus disappear from sight. He had stood at the window of his temporality class room for several long hours now. He was tired to say the least, exhausted.

From what, you may ask? From planning Bart's murder. He had to do it discreetly, to where no one would notice. He had to have an alibi on tape or even a witness while Bart died. You could imagine that unless he had an exact look like twin brother, it was very difficult to come up with this plan.

With the stupidity of Springfield's 'finest' in the police department, he could get away with murder. The problem that he worried about was the smart one of the Simpson family; Lisa Simpson. But he'd make sure she was too stricken with grief to try and point fingers at him.

So far his plan sounded reasonable. He'd make Bart walk into a deserted area of the snow falling place with a gun. Then he'd shoot him; leave the body to the animals. He'd find a frozen lake next and make a hole in it, throwing the weapon there. After that, he'd return to the ski lodge and make sure the security camera catches him. Here came the tricky part; he'd have to manipulate the time frame on it to make it seem that he was there during the killing.

Bob smiled; thrilled that he'd be able to pull it all off. Finally…his arch enemy would be gone forever!

* * *

Bart got on the bus with a very blurry mind. So many thoughts were racing by in his brain, so many that he found himself feel dizzy and faint. It was now the morning of the ski trip and he had to go to school, then wait an hour before they loaded up.

If it weren't for his mother, Bart feared he would have forgotten everything needed. Looking inside his duffel bag, he smiled softly. There were several layers of clothing, a few bags of health and junk food, four water bottles, and a few comic books.

The comic books, although he hated to admit it at his age, were a source of comfort. Whenever he would worry or get nervous, or even get scared, he'd read them. They were old and out-dated, even considered childish and dorky…yet he loved them. Why? Because unlike life, these comic books followed a certain course that never changed.

Finally he got to school and, just as everyone did, reported to 5th period. He wondered faintly if Skinner found out about his 'fascination' with Sideshow Bob, which meant he forced him to go to his class. He would have been dead certain Skinner was tormenting him if he hadn't heard that they were supposed to report to 5th period two weeks ago.

He sat in front of the class as instructed yesterday. He watched the substitute with unfocused eyes, his mind thousands of miles away. His thoughts were blurry, confused and even fearful. The future was frightening to him, especially with this trip.

The boy was so long in thought that he failed to see and hear everyone leave the room to load the bus. It was Bob's doing that he realized what was happening.

Bob watched the boy stare into space with clouded eyes, walking up behind him. Leaning forward, he whispered in his ear, "Bart…Pay attention and load the bus!"

Bart's gasp and heated face did not go by unnoticed by Sideshow Bob. Faintly he wondered what that was about. Ignoring it for now, Bob closed the classroom door and stepped onto the bus.

* * *

It was late evening when they arrived at the ski resort. The sun was just setting as the bus stopped. Bart stayed on as everyone left, their teeth chattering and most whining to get into the warm ski lodge.

He would have followed suit, would have done what they were doing. But…the sunset, he noted, was really pretty. He sat in his seat, staring out the window. Orange, red, yellow, and a hint of purple decorated the sky, making him stare with awe.

He now understood why most girls found it romantic.

"Mr. Simpson, due to the numerous times you've been caught day-dreaming, I'm instructing you to stay in the same cabin as me. After all…we don't want you to get hurt or lost…do we?" Bob's voice sent shivers down the Simpson boy's spine.

He looked up and found himself blushing again, cursing his own mind for getting him into this. Gulping down his fear, he finally found his voice, "…Yes sir."

* * *

Short chapter, I know, but I'm exhausted and needed to post this.

Next chapter: Cabin. Review please!


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for all the reviews! I'm going speed things up just a little bit.

* * *

Sleep in the same cabin…with him?! Bart was, to be blunt, freaking out. It was bad enough that he was just starting to realize he didn't like girls like he used to, but now he had to sleep with a man. Not a boy, but a man! Not sleep as in sex, but literally.

And this man just happened to be the focus in his wet dreams. This man was the one who tried killing him several times over the years. And now, for whatever reason, Principal Skinner was allowing the homicidal maniac to keep his attempted-victim…wait a minute. Did Skinner even know about this?

Bart shivered at the thought, the wind nipping at his skin. The snow had managed to stay in his hair even when he walked into the over crowded ski lodge. That's when he realized something. Even though he was in a crowd of people…he felt alone. He felt so isolated that it made his heart ache.

He felt so alone…why? Because of his 'interest'. Who in the world could he tell about being gay? About being bisexual…about the wet dreams of his attempted-killer? Milhouse would freak out and no one else was that close or trustworthy. Springfield, from what he noted recently, was slightly homophobic.

What was he to do?

* * *

Sideshow Bob watched the boy day dream. Everyone got off the bus one by one, their teeth chattering and their limbs shaking as the wind hit them. They nearly ran to the warm toasty ski lodge. Except Bart Simpson.

He sat there next to the window in the middle of the bus, his gaze blank and clouded. His eyes were faced towards the setting sun, his lips slightly parted. It was quite clear that the boy was lost in thought…but about what?

Bob finally walked over to him. The boy still stared on, oblivious to all of the people and world around him. How lucky for him…for now. Soon, Bob thought, he'd be able to day dream all he wants…when he's dead. But something inside the ex-clown regretted thinking that. Shrugging it off mentally, he spoke up.

* * *

Bart walked into the cabin with a long worried face. His constant thoughts were on three subjects all together. But of course, you must understand that these subjects were huge and important.

One; He was staying with his enemy, the man who tried so many times to kill him. Was he worried about getting killed in his sleep? You better believe it! Then again, Bob was classical; he wasn't the type to kill so…disgracefully.

Two; The wet dreams he had of Bob…what if they snuck up on him tonight? What if he awoke 'pitching a tent in his pants'? If Bob saw, he'd feel so embarrassed. It'd be even worse if he demanded to know who he dreamt of. It was highly unlikely but still.

Three; How was he going to get through this?! If he lived through this, and from the glare he was receiving from Bob right now that 'if' was huge, he'd be so embarrassed. He lusted after a man older than him who hated him and…was probably not bi.

"Since there's only one bed, we'll have to share." Sideshow Bob made Bart snap out of his worries.

It took a full minute for the boy to realize what he had just said and meant. He stood in the middle of the room, the snug looking rug under his show tracked feet. His eyes were glazed over with confusion at first.

Then the information sunk in.

"AHH! NO!!!" Bart suddenly shouted, his voice echoing quite loud in the three room log house. The feeling of being eight years old again over took him. He felt helpless, unable to do anything to stop all of this. In a way, he couldn't…

"Then you can sleep on the ground!" Bob snarled, unpacking a few items. Bart shivered and sat on the bed, silently accepting the chance to share the bed. Inwardly he groaned, wondering why Fate was being such a bitch to him so far.

He sat there and thought once more. Well, he started to but the cold air finally got to him. Despite his several layers of sweaters, he felt the cold bite his face and neck. He felt his skin have Goosebumps and finally gave into his desires to get warmth.

Bob was kneeling in front of the fireplace, the just lit fireplace. The fire roared loudly and made the shadows on the ex-clowns face make him appear…demented and evil. Well, eviler than normal. In his mind he had been going over the plans for tomorrow, on how to kill Bart.

When he stood up to ask the boy if he was hungry, he stopped. He felt his heart tug slightly, felt something…something gushy and warm inside him. Seeing the sight before him made his frown turn into a soft grin. It almost made him…regret the plan.

Teenager Bart Simpson was lying on the bed, shivering and asleep.  
As gentle as an attempted homicidal serial killer can be, Bob walked over to the boy and caressed his face. He was freezing cold! Carefully, he took off Bart's shoes and placed the soaking things near the fire. The substitute teacher surprised himself when he was stripping the boy's heavy sweaters off, placing the wet ones near the fire.

His touch was soft, gentle. It was almost as though he was stripping a lover instead of his enemy. Bob suddenly felt his face turn a dark red, making his gaze turn to the window. Did that mean anything?

Shaking his head, making his bushy long hair shake as well, Bob frowned. The snow was falling softly. "I'll kill him tomorrow…nothing will stop me!" Despite his sudden outburst, the boy stayed in a deep sleep. Did he not fear Bob?

Lying next to Bart on the full size bed, he felt his eyelids grow heavy. Tomorrow would be the end of little Bart Simpson, so why not let him snuggle up for warmth?

Little did both of them know that Mother Nature had a very different plan in store…

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Next chapter: In the morning, snow storm! Review please! 


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to all my reviewers!

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A distant beeping echoing quite loudly in Bart's dreams. It was an annoying little beep, like a bird chirping over and over again on the same note. It sounded so damn familiar…it was his digital watch!

Without opening his eyes, Bart continued to sleep…well, try to sleep I should say. Faintly he was wondering in the back of his mind why his digital watch was going off like crazy. It only did that when it was…

"Noon!" Bart's eyes shot open and his voice was just above a whisper. He winced at it, wondering why his throat had hurt so much. It felt scratchy, as though someone…Bob maybe…tried choking him with sandpaper.

Suddenly a groan behind him made him freeze. Slowly, he turned to look at the human that lay beside him. When he saw a sleeping Sideshow Bob, he felt his heart stop beating. Oh at this moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss those parted lips. That's when he realized something; Bob's arms were around him!

"Simpson…" Bob snarled suddenly, making Bart flip off the bed with a shout. "Will you cease that annoying beeping noise?!"

Smiling sheepishly, he turned the watch off and glanced around. "What was that about anyway?" The substitute asked while standing, stretching a little.

Bart resisted licking his lips at the sight, forcing himself to answer. "It's noon already." His voice sounded gravelly, scratchy. Rubbing his throat with pain-narrowed eyes, he coughed lightly. "Ow…" Why did it hurt so much?

"What do you mean its noon?! That's what your watch meant?!" Bob echoed with a slight trace of worry in his tone.

Bart nodded, unable to speak without flinching. Bob looked out the windows, "Why didn't the sun r-r-r-r-r…Snow!" He exclaimed suddenly. Both looked at the windows and saw nothing but white frozen liquid. Snow had covered it completely!

Now since both of them were out of bed, alert and awake, they realized just how cold it was. The fire had gone out! Shivering, Bart curled back in the blankets and watched Bob pace the floor. When he spoke, a breath of air could be seen.

"Okay, okay…apparently we just…got buried in snow. The school should find us any minute now. We were supposed to get up at seven and its' already 12. They…"

Bart said nothing, just wrapped around thick blanket around himself. "Bob…" He spoke in a scratchy voice, wincing, "…If there was a storm or an avalanche…the school could be buried too."

"…Are you ill with a sore throat?" The question was full of concern and wonder, which threw the young Simpson man off.

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Next chapter: Bob's taking care of Bart. They talk about what will happen next. Plus, Bob's thoughts and struggle about killing Bart! Review please!

I know this is short but I wanted to set up the suspense and all XD The update will take a few days because of school.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to **Opaque Opal** & **Jennifer** for reviewing!

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"…_Are you ill with a sore throat?" The question was full of concern and wonder, which threw the young Simpson man off._

Blinking with his huge eyes, Bart thought over that question. It wasn't just the question that threw him off, stunned. No, it was the person…the man who asked it. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?!

"I…I don't know." He whispered, wincing at the sharp pain.

Glaring dully at the ignorant boy, Bob questioned further, "Does it hurt to talk?" When he received a nod, he stated, "Then you must have a sore throat. Sit up on the bed and I'll make you some honey tea."

As he started to melt the frozen over water and boil it, he mused thoughtfully, "You must have gotten sick from yesterday. Despite your whole body being covered, your neck was left vulnerable."

Bart blushed darkly at the dirty thought he heard his subconscious mind whisper. His attempt to look away was proved futile when his eyes landed on Bob's backside. Unable to suppress a shiver, he jumped when the man said, "We'll turn on the fire a little later. Try to stay under the covers…"

Truth be told, Bob was worried about what would happen if they needed more heat. They needed to save and converse the firewood and heat. But they still needed to keep warm. The only logical solution would be to share body heat but…Bob felt Goosebumps.

"Here…drink this. Watch it, it's hot." He muttered softly, handing a cup of steaming green tea with honey in it to the boy. As he sipped it, he made a face.

"Ew! This is sick!"

"…It's tea that will help you. Unless you…_like _the pain when you speak. Tell me, are you a masochist?" The sophisticated voice allowed the last word to hang in the air, stretching on the emphasize.

Ever the ignorant teenager, Bart repeated, "Masochist? What's that?"

Without warning, the attempted killer swooped down on his soon-to-be-victim, his mouth merely inches away from the young man's ear. His hot breath touched Bart's neck as he whispered softly, ruggedly at the same time, "A masochist, Mr. Simpson, is someone who enjoys pain. Someone who wants and likes pain; they get off on it. A sadist, as you would assume that I am, enjoys inflicting pain. So are you one of them, Bart?"

His breathing sped up, his body shook but not with coldness, with desire. Screwing his eyes shut, Bart tried as hard as he could to control his body and it's…reactions. The man was just so…so close!

A chuckle was heard, "Finish your tea…"

* * *

As he watched the young man finish the tea with a somewhat pleased look on his face, he smirked inwardly. It was just simply amazing how he trusted him so well. For all Bart knew, he could have put a sprinkle of rat poison powder when he was boiling the water!

So why didn't he?

One of Shakespeare's more famous stories involved death by drinking poison so it would have been very classy to repeat such a thing. The problem in this situation was…Bart was no Romeo and Bob was not Juliet. Still, he could have poisoned the lad with ease.

Perhaps it was just…just seeing the young man in pain that made him wish to heal him. If anyone were to cause pain to Bart, it would be him…That's what he told himself. Deep down inside, though, he knew it wasn't the truth. Something about Bart just…

Shaking his head, he sat down and looked over the warmed boy.

"…What do you think will happen?" Bart's question threw him off his guard. "I mean…like…how long do you think we'll be trapped in here?"

Almost in a sneering way, he said, "I hope you're not claustrophobic. You _do _realize what that means, right? Oh good, I don't need to explain it to you then. Probably a few days, a week or two at the worst…" _"If you and I survive that long."_ He added mentally.

Bart mocked him quite suddenly, "Aren't you a substitute teacher? You shouldn't mind teaching me stuff since you chose that job." Oh how he wished Bob would teach him several things, most of them dirtier than one would assume. The one thing he really wished, secretly of course, that Bob would teach him…was how to love another person of your same gender.

"Back to your earlier question, Mr. Simpson." The ex-clown glared murderously, "Since we might be stuck in here for the long haul, I would suggest trying to conserve as much water and food as possible."

"But I'm still freezing!" Bart complained, despite the several blankets he wore.

"…There is one other way to…get warm…" Bob looked as though he forced the words out of himself.

"Which is?" He shivered.

"…Cuddle."

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Next chapter: Will Bart agree?! Will it be awkward?! They start fighting over each other's past and we see more of Bart's and Bob's. Review please! 


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to **Jennifer, Opaque Opal and Pastry Girl**.

Plus, although I feel a little teary and warm inside, I'm so happy that I have all these reviews! Never would I have thought that this story, a Simpson story, would hold 10 chapters! I'm so proud and grateful for my reviewers and readers!

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"_…Cuddle."_

Sideshow Bob's face showed just how serious he was. Despite his past jobs of entertaining and making people chuckle, his eyes held no twinkle nor humor or even amusement. All it showed was cold hard seriousness.

What was young Bart supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? It felt as though his tongue were trapped in his throat, his breathing scarce enough to keep living. So many thoughts zoomed in his mind, giving him very little time to think.

On one hand, his hormones were screaming encouragement and cheering. His body was shaking from the coldness, his breath in air reminding him just how freezing this place could get.  
On the other hand, what if Bob got freaked out about cuddling? Despite the fact that he was the one who mentioned it, if he realized just how much Bart enjoyed it…Bart shivered. They needed to share body heat, it was the only way to survive!

Without warning, he felt the mattress sink deep, indicating that someone was on it. Looking up, he realized that Bob had probably got tired of waiting for an answer and wrapped his arms around the body. With the four or five covers over them both, he felt warmer and…safe.

Quite ironic actually that our young Simpson would feel safe in the arms of the man who tried to kill him.

Inwardly, Bart gave a soft sigh. He allowed his posture to go from rigid as a board to calm as jelly. He leaned in deeper to the older man's embrace, his eyes half closed and his mind not really there. It felt as though he was lost in fog, unable to see or think. And yet…it did not bother him one bit.

Bob, on the other hand, was very aware and alert. He had grown tired and quite cold waiting for the young lad to say yes or no. It was almost a selfish act that he curled up behind Bart and held him. He didn't care if the boy had said no, he just wanted warmth. And, of course, that was what he got.

It surprised him a great deal when he felt the boy relax, almost slump into his arms. Perhaps, he told himself, that he was just tired or sicker than having a sore throat. He'd still kill the boy when they got out; if he helped him, then it would make Bob look like less of a suspect when the boy went 'missing'.

He had to tell himself this to stop _it _from happening. He had to remind himself several times that the boy destroyed his plans so this…this…caring feeling in his heart would stop. This…warmth in his heart. He shuddered with a soft groan, unaware that Bart heard it.

Bart gulped, hearing the deep throated growl/groan. He fought against his body's natural reaction and tried thinking of other things. He thought about Milhouse…thought about Apu…thought about Krabappel, his old teacher in a bikini. With a mental sigh of relief, he felt any emotions rising fall quickly.

Hours passed but neither realized it. They were focusing on the idea of being rescued. When would they be saved? When would the high school of Springfield and the saviors realize that there was once a cabin in this spot, now covered in snow? When would they glance around and see no Bart Simpson or substitute teacher?

Bart was suffocating; felt these questions were drowning him. Claustrophobia; that was the word. He felt as though these thoughts, these frightening thoughts were surrounding him.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder, "Bart!" Shouted Sideshow Bob, his tone hinting that he had been calling out for the boy several times. He looked up, his eyes huge and worried. "You were shaking…are you alright?"

Why should he, Bob, care about his enemies health? He was going to kill the boy anyway!

"Yeah…I'm just…What happens if we don't get out?" Bart's question was soft, showing just how scared he was.

It felt like his voice was caught in his throat, for Bob looked away at the snow covered window. Even though Bart could not see the older man, he knew that he was too scared to answer.

Or maybe it was because he had no answer.

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Next chapter: I NEED IDEAS! I can't really think of any. Maybe…I don't know! If you have any, please tell me them in review! 


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks so much to **Jennier!** I loved your idea; it just made total sense and fit so well. Thanks so much for saving this story lol. And to **Bert The Crow, Opaque Opal & Beriipop**, I really do appreciate the ideas and they were really good, but too soon for the plot, ya know? Who knows…I might use them later lol. Thanks!

Plus, welcome and thanks to **Swisssmarie!**

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Silence filled the air. The air was cold and chilly, forcing the two bodies to come together much closer. The snow had not melted, hiding the view of the window with its' whiteness. Nothing had changed, it would seem, except the two males body temperatures.

Bart Simpson was still ill with a sore throat. Every few hours, his 'cuddle buddy' got up to make him warm honey green tea. Although it helped the pain when Bart spoke, it did not cure it completely.

It was amazing how Bart trusted him, Bob thought subconsciously. And yet, how could it be that shocking when he knew the boy was young and innocent? He knew Bart was naïve and young, trusting anyone that gave the vibe of kindness. Isn't that what Bob was doing? Showing kindness to his soon-to-be-victim by giving him tea?

Neither of them knew or even cared to guess how many days have slipped by. They were scared of saying it out loud, that the more time goes by, the less hope they feel. The faster time slips away, the faster hope dies. If the rescue team hadn't found the yet, they might never.

Right now, Bart lay in Bob's arms, sleeping. His chest moved up and down calmly, rhythmically under the covers. The tall man stretched his back a little, leaning against the headboard for support. Risking a glance, he stared at the boy's face.

The years that had passed change not a lot. The boy still had the same nose, the same lop sided grin while he rested. What was he dreaming of? His hair was slightly longer, but not by much. When had he been hoping for a haircut?

The man gave a gentle sigh, thinking of the past. So many times he tried to kill this creature in his arms and yet, nothing ever really…happened. The particular memory of his marrying Selma, trying to get money for it of course, went by his mind. A shiver of disgust and regret traveled down his spine. It wasn't the idea of marrying her that grossed it out…it was the fact that they did the 'honeymoon' thing at night. He hadn't really felt anything for her, physically and emotionally and yet he faked his way through it **all.**

Bob shuddered and flexed his fingers slowly. They were numb, his whole body was numb. Although he was not frozen over, he wasn't exactly toasty warm either. _"But I can move my hand enough to grip a knife and bring it down on this child!" _His mind suddenly shouted.

It was as though he became a puppet, a man on strings who had no control over his limbs. He suddenly stood up, letting the boy's head fall roughly on the bed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Bob grab a near by hidden knife. _"Was that always there?"_ Bart wondered in the back of his mind as he sat up.

The man formally known as Sideshow Bob took three steps towards the bed. The knife in his hand rose a few feet above his head, the murderous gleam in his eyes bright and sparkling. His mouth was in a form on a frowning snarl, a growl almost.

As if it were déjà vu, Bart gasped loudly. A scream erupted from his throat, echoing in the very tight fitted log cabin. It bounced off the walls and made his fear sound several times realer.

Bob brought his hand down to finish the boy off, to silence his annoying scream. But…he couldn't. He wanted to oh so bad but his body would not let him. His subconscious mind wouldn't.

The knife fell to the floor, the loud clatter of it silencing Bart's cry of fear. Bob fell to his knees, his eyes huge instead of narrowed. His lips that were in form of snarl just moments ago were now in shape of a quivering frown. His hands were shaking lightly but not from the coldness.

"…I can't kill him…" He spoke as though Bart weren't there. "I can't do it." Bart wondered if he even realized he was awake or not. "I…I…I can't…I…I think I care…for him. I think I might love him."

That whisper at the end of the sentence was louder than the harsh winds of a snow storm.

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Next Chapter: Bart thinks over his feelings for Bob; Bob realizes what he said. They try to talk about an escape plan. Will romance bloom? Review please! 


	12. Chapter 12

First off, I'm **sorry** it's been so long since I've updated. There are so very few stories with Bob and not many episodes on TV with him, so you can imagine how hard it is to be inspired. I've also had some troubles and such with…life. Anyway, sorry once more. Here's your story.

Thanks to **Jennifer, bazzo-kun, Anonymous, Beriipop, samgurlalways, Swisssmarie, & Opaque Opal for reviewing!**

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Sideshow Bob's confession of love was almost as loud as an avalanche. It sounded like a hammer hitting a huge piece of metal. It echoed in that small little room, that cabin they shared, like it was a cave. Perhaps it was, for it was dark and dreary enough. This cabin that they were stuck in, it felt like the walls were closing in but not from claustrophobia…from what the ex-clown had just blurted out.

That's how loud it rang in Bart's ears despite the fact that it was a mere whisper. Bob's vocal chords had not even been as loud as a whisper! It was from shock that he kneel there, allowing the cold air to wrap around him like a blanket. It was from shock that he stay on the hard ground, realizing what he just said and what he felt.

How long? How long had he been in love with this young…man? This mere boy?! Bob felt the strong desire to rip out his long hair, to throw back his head and release an agonizing confusing scream from his throat. It was from sheer self-control that he managed to stay calm…still…shocked to the core. All those years in prison had taught him not to start fights with ignorant people, not to try and escape but wait and plan. Self-control.

Bart sat on the bed, which was getting cold pretty fast he noticed. With a grimace, he pulled the blankets around him tighter but it did not help at all; the warmth had left when Bob stood up. Perhaps his body was cold because of the temperature. Or perhaps his body was cold because he just heard a heart-stopping confession.

Neither dared to move, dared to speak. Neither wished to utter one word, to see their cold breathes appear in front of them appearing as little clouds…clouds that only proved they had something to say. Embarrassment would be the right word at this moment.

Had anyone been over to their cabin…If anyone looked in, they would have been confused. If a stranger looked in at this scene, their first thoughts would be 'statues'. What in the world are two statues doing in the middle of a cabin? Then they'd realize, after a moment, that these two humans were not a work of art but frozen. They were not frozen by the cold, not yet at least. Of course a stranger would assume they were frozen in place by the temperature, not by shock.

Sitting on the bed, Bart was unsure of what to say. Something _needed _to be said, to bring both of them back to life again. It felt like hours had passed since Bob's silent confession of surprising love…maybe it had been. However, Bart did not know nor did he wish to.

But what was there to say?

He had just found out that the man who tried to kill him several times…loved him. That very same man who pledged to slice his throat had hesitated, claiming he couldn't finish off and honor the pledge simply because of these 'feelings'. While Bart did not mind this, it certainly threw him off.

This begged the question…What should Bart say? What should he blurt out; his love or a lie? Did he really love the older man? So many things were so…messed up. Did he love or lust after him?

Love was so complicated, something that could not be described. That's why, dear readers, I can not and shall not even dare to attempt to describe it. I will not compare silly little things to love, make up similes or metaphors relating to the four letter word. Everyone has their own definition of love, some more twisted than others, so I won't speak for that.

However…lust in another story. Lust is when you, your body, feels passion. When your senses are heightened, when your mind is racing, when your breathing is heavy. It's when you want to grab the person and just cling to them, mold your bodies into theirs.

So was Bart in love…or in a hazy moment of lust?

Just a mere few feet away sat Sideshow Bob, struggling internally as well. What in the world had possessed him like that? What kind of stupidity took control and made him blurt out such a thing? Such a ridiculously…true thing. This only made Bob feel worse.

Bob just sat there like a rag doll. His body was starting to shiver; his knees were aching from the weight he applied to them. His mind was racing so fast, thinking of solutions, replaying what had just happened…He felt dizzy. He felt light-headed, he wanted to faint and never wake up.

Did he really…love the boy? No…Bart was almost seventeen, he was almost legal. Did he love the soon-to-be-young-man? So many years of his life did he try to kill him…so many years did he try to destroy the monster. And yet, now that he had the chance to…he couldn't. Because of that four letter word that was a cursed blessing; love.

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Next Chapter: Bob helps Bart with the sore throat; Bart tries to talk about the whole 'love' thing. Review please! 


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to those who reviewed.

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The time that had stretched between the confession and now was difficult to tell. It could have been several minutes easy, or it could have been several long hours. Either way, it felt like time dragged by like a snail up a tree.

The bed was very similar to ice, Bart's skin covered with Goosebumps. His limbs were shaking, his nose turning pink. If he was suffering like this, he could only imagine how Bob felt there on the ground. He must have been close to becoming an icicle; he was kneeling motionless for so long!

"…Bob?" He whispered, his throat vibrating pain.

Suddenly the ex-con looked up, acting as if nothing had happened. It was as if the boy's scratchy voice had snapped him out of his stupor, making him remember what their situation was. Slowly, trying not to fall on his face, Bob stood and made his way to the oven.

"Don't speak; your throat won't heal as fast if you speak." This was partly true and partly not. He wanted to hear what the boy would say and yet…he didn't want to face rejection. Who would have guessed that the great Sideshow Bob, the mastermind of clever plans, feared a silly thing, like rejection?

As he made another pot of tea, he stared through the window as if hoping to see through the frozen snow. He looked so melancholy, Bart decided silently. It wasn't pathetic; not at all…it was sad. This man who Bart destroyed, despite it being his fault as well, had lost so much…now he was…in love! With him!

Carefully, he took off the covers from his freezing body. As quiet as he could be, he slid off the bed and held back a hiss of surprise, his bare feet touching the cold ground. As though he were a ninja, he walked up behind the man. He was only a few inches shorter, so his chin rested on the man's shoulder now.

Bob tensed up immediately; obviously shocked that he could even get out of bed. "…You must be cold…" He whispered softly, his deep voice sending chills down Bart's spine.

His voice was always had that affect. Bart never really noticed, never really thought about it until now. Bob's voice was always so deep and dark, always holding a tint of danger in it. An underlining of sin, in a way. His voice was sophisticated, just like him. The way those intellectual words rolled off his tongue…Bart felt something stir in his groin.

"You must be too." Bart stated. His winced inwardly, cursing his little vocabulary. "You were on the ground for a while…" Even as he spoke this, it sounded dirty and wrong.

Both hesitated. Finally, as the tea brewed, Bob put some in two cups before placing honey in them. Guiding the young man to bed, he sat behind him and wrapped his limbs around the boy. They drank the steaming liquid in silence, obviously not minding the contact they shared.

Slowly, their bodies grew warm. The thoughts of snow being piled up on the outside were far away, were distant as their help. All that were on their minds were love, lust, confusion and…each other.

It was just so awkward.

They could mess up so easily…they could say one wrong thing that would shatter the other's thoughts, feelings, trust…everything! With one small thing done, they could hate each other, fear each other. Anything could go wrong, very little could go right.

But isn't that what should have happened? Shouldn't they hate and fear each other? After all, the older man tried to kill the young man…shouldn't hate/fear be the base on their "Relationship"?

Oh yes, it should have been.

But what fun would it be if little Bart Simpson ever did what he should have done?

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Next Chapter: Bart & Bob's "talk" goes to contact lol. For "Body warmth". Anyway! Review please! 


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks to **Opaque Opal, Bazzo-Kun, Swisssmarie, & Mattie Scary!**

**Stupid UIL judges didn't place me at all so I lost!**

_

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But what fun would it be if little Bart Simpson ever did what he should have done?_

The young yellow man felt the body heat of an ex-clown radiate off him, pressing against his own skin. Goosebumps appeared on his arms, on his skin as cold air hit him. Chilly air hit his front by Bob's heat kept his back warm.

The scene was just so peaceful and full of serenity. However…looks are deceiving. Despite the boy being very clam, or should have been very calm, he was anxious and nervous. Bob, of course, was no better.

As soon as Bart opened his mouth to say something, anything, Bob spoke up. His dark sophisticated voice cut through Bart's thoughts like a knife…especially since he tried to kill him a few moments ago…no pun intended. "I think, perhaps, we should try to…talk this out. I feel that you're tense and to be honest, I feel a little uncomfortable myself." A little?! Bart snorted inwardly. That was an understatement.

He felt Bob's breath down his neck, his mouth neck to his ear and shivered. "Do you think you can talk with your throat injured?" It wasn't mock or scorning, it was actually concern and care.

After several long moments, Bart remembered how to speak. "I've had plenty of sore throats before and talked, I can manage this one…especially since I drank honey tea." There was a tone of gratitude under his voice, making Bob grin.

Something occurred to the older man. "…What do you mean you had plenty before?"

Hesitating, as if ashamed, Bart confessed, "My dad used to choke me a lot so…my throat always hurt at times."

It was a slight surprise that Bob felt anger and hatred course through his veins like a cobra attacking. It was quick and fast, something that surprised him. It didn't shock him that much for…well; he already knew he was in love with the boy so this reaction was normal. Wasn't it?

"He what?!" Bob's voice was loud and sharp, something unexpected. This made the young man flinch, not realizing how…vocal the man can be when angry. Seeing what effect he had on Bart, he calmed down quickly. "My apologizes. Why does he choke you?"

Bart hesitated for a moment, as if pondering this himself. Why did he? "I…I don't know. He just gets angry…I mean, sometimes I provoke him but other times…"

Suddenly he sneezed.

Bob blinked, "Bless you…Cold?" As if the sneeze wasn't a sign, Bob noticed just how many Goosebumps appeared on the young boy's skin. Perhaps he'd try to…warm him up.

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Next Chapter: For "Body warmth". Review please!

I would write more but fluff is hard when all your close girl friends got something from a guy and you didn't…so…yeah…


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks to **Opaque Opal, Anonymous, xTelescopeEyes, Madam Pegasus, ****Sacharissa Lupin****, Swisssmarie, & Mattie Scary! Thanks to Reviewer Number 50. Lol, love the name :P Feel special for being number 50…let's hope you're 100 as well! **Id' like to also point out that writing the beginning made my cheeks dark red. When you just step out of church (who was talking about sinning by sex without marriage) and write yaoi…you can't help but blush a lot. Lol!

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"Bart…" Bob's voice was gentle, slow even. Hesitation, however, did not taint his tone. He was just…careful…about what he was trying to say. After all, he didn't want to scare the poor lad. "You seem very cold…Perhaps you'd like to warm up?"

Bart looked up, something sparkling in his eyes. It wasn't hesitation, nor was it fear. It wasn't anger but it wasn't calmness, serenity. It wasn't even close to happiness but it wasn't depressing and melancholy. It was…interest…surprise…even curiosity.  
"Warm up?" He repeated like a parrot. "How?" This is when the ignorance came in place. "It's freezing in here; the cabin is buried and we shouldn't use up anymore fire or heat than we should."

The man stared into the eyes of the boy who stared up. It was an impulsive, almost thoughtless, act of stroking his hair. It was a loving action. "Easy, Bart…" He leaned forward; his breathe hitting the young Simpson's ear. "…Have you ever heard of the term 'body heat'?"

Bart nodded weakly, feeling a little light headed. Even in the most seductive situations, Bob managed to show off his intelligence. "When two bodies come together, they share body heat. Even a simple act of hugging…" The man held the boy tighter. "…can warm the other person up. To increase this feeling of warmth, we must become closer."

The young man gulped, shivering from anticipation. "C-Closer?"

"Yes Bart…closer." His voice was dripping with darkness, making Bart crave more.

"How?"

Bob's hands traveled down to the hem on his shirt, slowly taking it off. This of course startled Bart, for he was so distracted by the elegance of his voice, the way his eyes sparkled. "W-What are you doing?!" He exclaimed, making it obvious how unsure he was of this.

Bob started to remove his own shirt. The way he answered made Bart feel…well…stupid. "To become closer and warmer, we have to remove any barriers…clothes included."

Bart felt the urge to pull away simply because he was embarrassed of his body. In his childhood, he always had a small, very small, gut. He wasn't fat for his age; in fact he was downright healthy…if you ignore that one epidemic with the vending machines at school. (He hoped Bob never heard of that embarrassing time.)

When he had hit puberty and after Jessica, he started to work out. In other words, he had a developing six pack. Despite this, he still felt a little embarrassed. Why? Simply because he had never let another man who he felt attracted to see him half naked. He had never liked another man!

So when he saw Bob's stomach, he felt his jaw drop despite his control (or lack of it). The man was slim and fit with the outlines of a six pack showing. Suddenly Bart felt the urge to see more, to see him without any pants or boxers.

It was a subconscious decision, curiosity that was too powerful for a teenage boy to control fully. He suddenly leaned forward on his own will. He didn't need to lean any closer than a few inches for Bob, who had just recently whispered in his ear, was leaning as well.

Their lips met.

Bob's lips were soft like silk, they tasted like English tea. Bart's lips were slightly rough like freshly picked cotton and tasted like honey. Both males had their eyes closed, obviously embarrassed at this. It was new though…

They stayed in this position for a few moments until Bart got daring. He bit the mans' bottom lip weakly, asking permission to enter his mouth. When he got it, their kiss became as passionate and as hot as the sun. Hands grabbed and groped each other, roaming the body and squeezing certain parts.

That's when Bart realized just how much he was enjoying this. Pulling away, he felt his face turn a dark shade of red, realizing as he looked down at his lap just how much he enjoyed it. Bob chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around the boy once more.

"That's perfectly natural…" He whispered to the sleepy boy.

Natural…something Bart rarely felt. He rarely felt natural, always being the trouble maker. Especially with this new development in his…feelings…the last thing he felt was 'natural'. But if the man he liked, almost loved, could say he was natural…he knew he was.

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Next Chapter: Sideshow Bob has a dirty dream…so does Bart, but it's a scary one. If anyone has any ideas, tell me please. Review please! Now, off to watch the debate! 


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to Tiffany123, Mattie Scary & Opaque Opal! I'd like to say that I was blushing at the beginning; Today's church day and…well, you get the picture. I hope I don't laugh in the middle of the ceremony while thinking of my story's idea XD LOL!**

**AND OMG! I HAVE A BOYFRIEDN! XD Lol yay.**

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The boy's lips were so soft, so gentle on his. They tasted like candy and soda, something you'd expect a teenage boy to eat non stop. Bob smirked at this, his hand sliding into his pants as they kissed._

_When Bart gasped, he took advantage of this action by slipping his tongue into the wet cave. The teen squirmed at first, clearly unaccustomed to such an act. Perhaps, Bob thought the back of his mind; he hadn't Frenched a girl yet. That made him even harder._

_One hand, the free one, grasped Bart's hair when his hand brushed against Bob's length. The fabric of his pants made a horrible tempting friction that made him shiver. Burying his hand in his hair, he found himself slightly surprised. Instead of it being spiky, hence the spikes, it was soft and gentle. Looks can be deceiving, Bob knew, but this was almost too much. _

_Unable to stop himself, he grabbed the young man's hips. Bob grinded his own against Bart's. Hearing him groan in suppressed pleasure made Bob braver in trying to help him feel as much pleasure as possible. His hand slithered into his pants, wrapping his long elegant fingers around the boy's swollen member._

_Bart let out a deep moan, pulling away from the air sucking kiss. Bob couldn't help but feel himself grow harder, if possible, as he watched Bart's eyes roll back slowly. Smirking, the ex-clown slowly moved his hand back and forth, stroking his length. Forgetting about his own needs, he focused on Bart's pleasure. It was, after all, the least he could do after forcing many years of worry and fear on the lad._

While Sideshow Bob dreamt a rather pleasant but dirty dream, Bart was suffering. It was like Yin and Yang for they were holding onto each other for warmth under several comforters and blankets. Yin and Yang; good and evil; happiness and sorrow; pleasure and pain; bliss and suffering. All these things were happening. Bob felt nothing but happiness and bliss in his dream while Bart felt pain and suffering in his slumber.

Of course the fact that Bob's dreams made him feel…affects…didn't help. It was one of those rare few 'wet dreams', something he hadn't had much since he was a teenager. A very hormonal teenage with the lack of control, just like Bart actually. So when Bart felt Bob…poke…him, this added not happiness to his dream but fear; it twisted his dream into a nightmare.

_Running, running, running to nowhere! Bart couldn't see before him, it was too dim. When he could finally see, he realized there was a wall there. This happened several times so he'd have to try and trace the path back and search once more. It felt as though he were a mouse in the maze of horror._

_While he ran so fiercely, a shadow followed. This shadow was not his for it did not chase the boy in a panicked state. No, instead it was calm and collective. It was as though the shadow knew what it was doing, knew the outcome of this maze so it did not run…it walked. There was a certain kind of smugness of it._

_This smugness that hung in the air was familiar, very familiar. As Bart ran until the soles of his shoes felt like they burned off, he had a feeling who was following. It was eerie enough to know someone was following you, walking calm while you ran in fear._

_It was a complete different thing to feel like your gaining distance when you're stuck to the ground. For when little Bart looked up, he saw Sideshow Bob standing over him, towering menacingly. In his right hand was a knife that glistened as bright as a star in the sky above them._

_The maze scene disappeared; fell down as though someone melted it with a microscope. Instead of his dream being blank space, it turned into dirt. It was dark brown and black dirt with moldy old tombs stuck in it. Not only were rocks with names stuck in it, bodies were too._

_It was a graveyard._

Bart awoke to feel rough hands shake him mercilessly. His head was being bobbled back and forth and if it weren't attached to his neck, it would have fallen by now. His teeth were chattering and bit his tongue, making him stop screaming.

When had he started?

"Bart!" A slightly angry yet concerned voice rang out. He opened his eyes to see an overwhelmed face of Sideshow Bob. Annoyance and faint lust rest in his eyes which glared at him coldly. What had the man been dreaming of? Bart wondered.

"W-what is it?" He stuttered, his tongue swelling up slowly from his teeth sinking into it moments earlier.

"You were screaming for quite some time. I wouldn't be surprised if you caused another avalanche." Bob sneered softly, the annoyance in his eyes melting into worry. "Are you alright?"

Bart remembered the dream and shuddered, wrapping the blanket tighter around him to fool Bob into thinking he was cold. "I-I'm fine. The…" His voice died into a very soft whisper. A church mouse was louder than him.

The older man sighed softly and pointed out the obvious, "You lost your voice with all that screaming, boy. Here…I'll make you some more tea."

As the man stood up to walk over to the stove, Bart couldn't help but wonder. What was that dream about? Was it a sign of the future? Or a grimace of the past? Perhaps it was just fear of being trapped to death and the fact that a guy who used to wish him dead was near put together.

Before he could get far in his thoughts, Bob yelped and jumped on the bed once more. The floor had small patches of ice on it.

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Next Chapter: Its night and the temperatures drop even further, if possible at all. They need to stay warm or die so they try to talk about their past. When this fails…they cuddle. If anyone has any ideas, tell me please. Review please! 


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks to **Reviewer Number #50 and #59, Mattie Scary, miss. Gordon and Opaque Opal!**

**Attention to all my lovely reviewers and viewers: My last updates will be between 9****th****-10****th**** on this month and will not be updated until the 22th. Why? Because I'm going to London for Spring Break! During the 10****th**** to when I officially leave (the 13****th****) I'll be writing chapters for most of my stories, that way I can update quickly when I get back. Thank you.**

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There were several patches of ice on the floor. Some of them were small like tea cups while others, like the one Bob had stepped on, were like plates. They were a clear substance with their edges a dark white, the only way to identify their location.

This led to the question of how?

How did these patches of ice appear on the ground so quickly? Neither had spilt any liquid on the ground and unless snow was falling from the ceiling, it was very difficult to get any frozen ice on there. But then again, and this thought made both of them feel fear, maybe it was getting even…colder.

Was the ceiling caving in though? It would make absolute sense for the snow to slip through the cracks, to become water from the little heat they had in the room and freeze on the ground. After all, the ground was the least heated area of the whole cabin.

That was a terrifying thought, however. If the roof was giving in from all the pressure of the snow…they'd be buried alive and soon be dead. Their bodies were already struggling with adjusting to the cold; they couldn't take anymore!

"Bart…Perhaps we should start a small fire. That way we can control the temperature to be at least…" Bob shuddered at his previous thoughts, "Bearable."

Eagerly, the young man nodded and started to get out of the tangled cocoon of blankets. However, Bob grabbed his arm and held him down gently. "I'll get up, you have a sore throat; you don't need to get worse."

Unable to understand how walking on a cold floor and a sore throat was connected, he nodded reluctantly. As soon as Bob stepped on the ground which didn't seem to have ice, he muttered a little too loudly, "At least there are no rakes."

Bart couldn't help but smile, resisting the urge to laugh. He remembered perfectly well that one time when he got tied up in the shed, how Bob hypnotized him to kill Krusty, what had happened. Bob had revealed that he had another life outside of Bart, had more enemies than him; his worse one was a rake.

Within moments, he came to realize that the fire had been made already. It was in the fireplace, across the other side of the room from where the bed was. Groaning softly, Bart felt a small annoyance.

He felt the bed shake, making him gasp softly. His teenager mind thought immediately, _"The bed's moving; sex!"_ It took just a second for him to realize that Bob was pushing it closer, much closer to the fireplace.

"There; that's better, isn't it Bart?" Bob smiled a rather self-pleased one, his eyes sparkling but not from the fire.

He nodded, a gracious sigh leaving his lips as he felt the warmth caress his skin. Quite without warning…the older man forced a kiss upon his lips. Bart, allowing his hormones to manipulate him, was pinned to the bed by the older man's body. The only thing that felt even better than the fire was Bob's skin against his.

Suddenly…there was a knock at the door.

Both pulled away and stared.

…Was it a trick of the mind?

Or was someone there?

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Next Chapter: Is it rescue time? Or a dream? If anyone has any ideas, tell me please. Review please! 


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks to **Opaque Opal, Mattie Scary & Arsene Lupin IV for reviewing. And to the reviewer GG, I appreciate you um…typing that info in but I already knew that. I had been referring to when he had hypnotized Bart into wanting to kill Krusty in the school shed.**

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There was another knock, louder this time. It echoed in the half empty cabin. The fire's crackle of life was the only thing that broke the pregnant silence after it. The bed was next to the fireplace, they felt the heat radiate off it. Still, it felt as though they were frozen in place.

Was it a dream? Neither moved, dared to speak or even breathe. They feared that if it was a dream that any sudden slight movement would make it disappear and then they'd be in reality. Reality…if the knocking was a figment of their imagination, they wanted to hope instead of feeling the cold dread of fear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Bob got off of Bart. The young man sat there, curled up in the cocoon of blankets and warmth. His eyes were huge, full of fearful hope. What would happen if it was fake? What if they weren't going to be rescued? Bart shuddered, not wishing to think of it.

"Can it…can it really be?" Bart whispered softly, as if asking a rhetorical question. While half of him wanted an answer and perhaps even another knock…the other part of him feared it. A knock meant people and people meant rescue and rescue meant going away from his newly discovered love! He'd rather be here suffering than be apart and well!

"It seems like a dream, doesn't it Bart?" The older man looked down at the boy, who had his head bowed ever so slightly. The blanket was wrapped around him tight. Suddenly he knew why. Carefully, he placed his arms around the boy, gently and murmured, "I know what you are thinking, young one. I promise…I promise I won't stop seeing you. I'll still be near you, holding you…I promise."

Suddenly the door was thrown open but not by a strong wind or freshly avalanched snow. It was…Duff Man! Even in this freezing cold weather, he wore that ridiculous outfit of spandex that showed more than covered anything. Inwardly, the ex-clown groaned…out of all the people to be rescued by!

"Duff Man has come to help the little dude…and the substitute!"

"…Must you always speak in third person?" Bob glared. In a way, Bart grinned weakly, this was his way of thanking the man. Now he'd have to go home…had they missed him?

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Next Chapter: Bart's return home…and he runs. Bob driving in his limo and sees him. Review please! I won't be updating till after London, the 23th-ish. 


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks to all those who have reviewed.

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Almost half a day had passed since they were rescued. It took them a few minutes, probably half an hour, to get their stuff before slipping on the ice. Bart still wondered how in the world that managed to show up on the dry floor.

Shrugging it off, he had stepped outside to see the sun. His eyes weren't used to it, making him wince. His voice, despite it barely being there, spoke up, "It feels so...warm!"

That was when he noticed an ambulance near by. Both Bart and Bob shared a small glance before walking over. The medical guys immediately swarmed over them, questioning their actions through the time. As they were given a blanket and more clothing, they answered questions. The medical guy said that they had to warm up slowly or else their blood would rush to their hearts, harming them.

"Tell us everything that happened for the last nine days." The man called Guy questioned. And although Bart was old enough to appreciate the irony, he winced at the question. It sounded so…dirty.

And so Bob went on to speak of everything…well, mostly everything. Was he scared that Bart might try to make up some lie about attempted murder? No…he was probably protecting the young man by ensuring he didn't say something stupid.

"And so I've been making him green tea with honey for a while. I suggest, Bart, you make some at home." Bob spared a sideways glance at the boy, who nodded. Normally he would have protested about such an order but…he didn't feel the need to. Not now at least. After all, he had been looking out for the boy's best interest and still was.

"Alright then sir…" Guy nodded towards Bob, "Let me just ask the boy one question and we'll start driving home." He got on his knees before the young lad, his voice etched with suspicion that was hard to hear since it was whispered. "…Did Sideshow Bob…hurt you in any way?" Ah, he must have heard the exaggerated tales of how Bob tried to kill him several times.

Once again, Bart's mind went to sexual mode. Shaking his head, he whispered, "No, he took care of me. He's…he's changed for the better." But had he really? In truth, the man had tried to kill him only a few days ago. How could Bart really trust him just because he proclaimed his love eight days ago?

….EIGHT DAYS AGO!?

Realization sank in, making Bart shout hoarsely. "It's been eight whole days?! What about my family? Are they alright? Worried?!"

Bob grabbed Bart's shoulders, calming him down instantly. As they drove away in the warm and cozy ambulance, he kept his hands there. Okay, Bart thought, maybe a man _could _change within a week or so. Just maybe.

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When they reached the hospital, they were warmed up once more and questioned a gazillion times! All of them were similar; what did they do? And most of them hinted their curiosity of how Bart lived and didn't get killed. He whispered to Bob when they were alone, "It's not like you'd willingly say you tried to kill me. And if you had killed me, they knew it'd be you." Bob chuckled, smiling at him.

Bart groaned inwardly as he saw another man coming their way. Except this time, it wasn't a reporter. It was a doctor! One, might he add, that he has never seen before. "Mr. Simpson, your family is here to pick you up."

The young man looked at Bob, sharing a knowingly smile, and then ran off. He was so happy! He'd be able to see his family once more, sleep in his own bed, and take a long hot bath! Finally!

When he reached the Waiting Room, he saw a very worried and pale Marge. She held him close, crying in relief repeating herself like a parrot, "Oh my baby, you're safe!" Lisa hugged him as well, looking as though she barely slept from the looks of the shadows under her eyes. Even Maggie, who was now ten-ish, hugged her big brother. However, Homer was no where to be seen.

For now, Marge said, it wouldn't be wise to ask and answer any questions. Not in public at least, where walls had rats and rats had ears. No…it wasn't safe from the media. They'd exchange words of curiosity at home.

Bart had nodded, too tired to talk and even if he wanted to, he doubted his voice would allow him. Funny how he was able to talk to Sideshow Bob, even if it was a whisper and yet he couldn't talk to his family. Shrugging it off, he focused on the present.

They walked out of the hospital through a back door. Probably trying to avoid the nosey townspeople and annoying reporters. As he walked out wrapped in a blanket, he couldn't help but feel eyes on him. Slyly, he looked behind him as if checking the time or something. There was Sideshow Bob, smiling ever so slightly. Bart's cheeks turned pink.

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On the way home in the car, Lisa couldn't look him in the eye. Her eyes turned to the window in the front seat, wincing every time they hit a bump as if she was struck. Marge wouldn't stop humming as she drove, slightly slower than normal; humming louder each time Bart questioned something.

There was something wrong here. For a brief second, fear flashed through him like lightning. Had they found out about his love for the older man? No…impossible!

Finally, he looked besides him at Maggie. Apparently she had been staring at the boy she called brother and the look of pity, of sorrow in them made his blood turn cold. Quickly, she looked away. Although she had outgrown the pacifier, she had taken up a new habit, one that broke the silence; chewing gum.

There was something definitely wrong here. Why would Maggie look at him with all that even though he was fine? Something had happened…

Finally, they stopped at a gas station for some gasoline. Lisa and Marge got out, almost throwing themselves out of the car. It was like they didn't want to be near Bart. When they seemed distracted, he turned to Maggie and stated, "Something happened, am I right?"

Although Maggie was young, she had a certain air of wisdom around her. In fact, it was safe to say that she was as wise as Lisa was smart. Actually, it'll get better as she grew. She nodded, looking away.

"Maggie…tell me." When he spoke, his voice was above a gentle whisper. When she wouldn't face him, his eyes narrowed and his voice became sharper. "Tell me!"

Finally she looked at him, her eyes fresh with tears. "…Bart…Bart, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop Dad, I did. Lisa and mom tried too as well. But…oh please, don't be upset!"

A rock hit the pit of his stomach.

"Bart…he burned your room. He tore up your pictures. He destroyed your…existence. He said you ran off with some bimbo instead of being trapped. He…he's drunk. But…that's not the worse part."

"What?" Bart felt sick.

"…When we heard you were found…he enrolled you into juvenile for…until you turn legal. This is your last day with us."

The young man felt as though a nightmare had engulfed him. Had he not just gotten out of another one barely alive? Had he not just suffered for eight days both mentally and physically? Why…why?!

He wouldn't let this happen.

The door was flung open. His legs sprinted down the road just as it began to rain. Thunder echoed loudly but still, Maggie's voice was heard, "Run brother! Don't let them catch you!" Rain drops him hit harshly.

…He felt so…alone…

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Next Chapter: Bob is driving and sees a soaking wet boy. He invites him to live with him, to hide out at least. Review please! I won't be updating till after London, the 23th-ish. 


	20. Chapter 20

**WOOHOO! I am BACK baby! Lol, the week in London was absolutely awesome! I'll try to post pics on my Myspace and such. Anyway, when I got back from London I noticed I had 94 emails! Sadly only 30 were fanfic related lol. And sadly, because we went walking and sight seeing and play seeing so much, I was too tired and busy to write chapters. So they might take a tad longer to update but will be updated. I GOT TO SEE LORD OF THE RINGS MUSICAL, WICKED, BLOOD BROTHERS & BILLY ELLIOT! XD THEY RULED! I'll thank everyone who reviewed in the next chapter.**

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Bob was sitting in his very expensive limo. Having just gotten out from the hospital, he called his driver who was more than happy to pick him up. Despite his pay, the driver insisted he missed and was worried about his boss simply because it was a 'joy to drive him around'. His mind kept circulating around Bart. He couldn't stop thinking about how much the boy had changed him; not just in the eight to nine days in the cabin, but in his whole life. It was like a plague, thinking of it.  
His childhood was a bleak one but pleasant. He had a hard time remembering his father. Then again, he was gone most of the time so it made sense that he'd remember his absence rather than presence. His mother raised him and his brother alone almost, always quoting famous literature. He owed her so much for that. Just the thought of not knowing Shakespeare, Homer (Not Simpson) and Dante…it gave him shivers.  
He remembered how his brother tried to become Krusty's sidekick how he, Bob, got the job instead. After several years of realizing the position was nothing but low pay, humiliation and anger…he tried to frame the man. And if it hadn't been for one child, one Bart Simpson…he would have gotten away with it.  
If it hadn't been for Bart and his sister Lisa, who he was still indifferent to, he would have never known the boy. His obsession would have never started and progressed. No…he was actually grateful he did. Because now he loved the boy, young man actually.  
In the cabin…he had the perfect plan to kill the boy. Even before they were snowed in! A perfect plan! But then it snowed; oh bittersweet Fate! How thankful he was it snowed, for now he loved and was loved in return. How annoyed and disappointed he was that it snowed, unable to get his revenge.  
How, he dare think, did he manage to realize his love for the boy? They depended on each other, especially when Bart got sick. When the temperatures dropped even further, they needed each other. And when he had the second chance to stab the boy into death, give him over to the Reaper…he couldn't. He broke down and realized his feelings.  
Thank goodness for that.  
His eyes gazed across the scenery which flew by. At one time or two, it slowed down because of a stopping sign or a light. He took that moment to appreciate the beautiful houses, the families playing, the…well, decent not cold weather. Yes it was rainy, but he… Would he and Bart ever live in a house by themselves? Would they ever marry? Adopt kids? His cheeks flushed. He was thinking like a teenager girl! Honestly!  
As the scenery went by rather quickly, his thoughts blurred like it. The trees melted into the houses. The rain drops were going by so quick that they seemed invisible. His thoughts turned to mush. Into nothing.  
Then it all stopped too sudden. The reason for this action that made him nearly slam into the seat before him was because of the driver. He had literally slammed on the brakes, the noise of screeching echoing quite loudly. He had actually winced physically at the sound.  
"Driver, what is the cause of…this?" His anger and annoyance died down into a soft wondrous tone. His eyes widened as he saw the sight before him. In front of the window, the tip of the car touched the belly of a young man.  
This young man was pale despite his normal skin color. His eyes were huge and the tears that sparkled blended into the rain to the untrained eye. His limbs were shaking from both present fear and past shock. His mouth was hanging open. He looked ready to faint.  
"Bart…"Bob whispered ever so softly. He stepped out and nearly ran to the teen. Once his hands touched the shaking shoulders, he led him into the car and didn't need to instruct the driver to take them both home.  
As he comforted the soaking wet man, muttering soothing things, he wondered what had happened. What could have taken place between these past few hours? What could have forced him to run off into this horrible weather? Just hours ago he saw a healthy happy Bart who was anxious to go home…now before him was a terrified sickly one. Home┘ Something must have happened involving his family. No…Homer. It involved the young man's father. "Bart…" He whispered in his ear, watching and feeling his shiver at his hot breath. "Would you care to live with me for a while?"

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Next Chapter: Home and talking of what happened. Romance. Review please!


	21. Chapter 21

**A/n note: I am aware that Bob knew his father but in the last chapter, I had meant that the dad was rarely there due to his job. That ended up in Sideshow Bob barely remembering his dad.**

**Thanks to Nightmare2Day, Mattie Scary, Dani Phantom, Opaque Opal, silly sissy sylvie, Swisssmarie, Gianna and GG. A special thanks to Swisssmarie who asked about Homer's thoughts…you will see what I mean in a moment.**

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The young man looked up at Sideshow Bob with shock etched onto his face. His eyes widened, his mouth opened slightly. Bob longed to kiss those lips, to take advantage of his parted mouth and slip his tongue in. He felt the urge to taste the young boy, one urge which he wrestled with difficulty.

"Stay…with you? You mean…you mean live with you? In the same house?" Bart whispered, his voice still soft from his aching throat.

Bob smirked, gently wiping away the rain drops that had stayed on his face. "Yes Bart. It would be better than a cabin."

Suddenly he threw his arms around the man, burying his face in his expensive suit. As water sunk into it, Bart clung to the man as though he was life itself. Perhaps he was for young Bart. He felt safe for the first time in ages. Ironic how he used to fear the man and yet, now he found comfort…and love.

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(A/N: This is the Homer's thoughts while Bart is gone.)

(Homer's POV)

Where was he?! I punched the wall, breaking another piece of plaster like I did before. I heard Marge grumble lightly, saying I'd take down the house with my rage.

She had her own way of relieving stress and worry; baking. I respected her odd way of letting out her emotions, simply because it tasted good, but she did not respect mine! In only the few days that our son had been gone, she baked six dozen cookies, seven fancy cakes, 12 loafs of bread and some other crap. I don't even remember her sleeping!

Then again, I thought while I chugged down a beer again, I don't remember anything these past few ways. What was it? Eight days since he went missing? I barely remember what I did this morning…hey…how did these beer cans end up at my feet?

Suddenly the phone rang. I grabbed it from the nightstand next to me, missing it four times. Stop moving damn you! "Wello?"

The other voice heard my slur and hesitated, "Mr. Simpson…we found your son. He had been trapped inside a cabin with his teacher under snow. We…" The man didn't get that far, for I saw red. My limbs were shaking, the phone starting to crumble in my hands.

"Dad…" My second daughter Maggie spoke up, surprising me. "What…what's wrong? Who's on the phone?"

"Your brother!" I shouted, standing up and nearly staggering to the ground.

"Bart?! He's on the phone?!" Maggie's eyes brightened with hope.

"No!" I snarled, "He was trapped in a cabin under snow! What a lie! He ran off with some…some…some bimbo! He ran off from a loving family who provided food and shelter and love for him for his life! And he choose some whore!" Somehow, without falling off the stairs, I ended up in Bart's room. How dare he choose some woman instead of his family!

I struck a match…there went his room. Now…what was the number to the juvenile detention thing?

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The boy had cheered up a considerable amount by the time they reached Bob's home. It had stopped raining exactly when his long foot hit the ground. Thinking it a blessing, he helped Bart out of the car.

They entered his house, which was like a mansion compared to Bart's old house. The living room was huge, the TV filling up one wall. The kitchen was full of food and drinks, holding a freshly-cleaned-lemony-scent. The stairs were carpeted and from Bart's view, he saw several rooms upstairs. As he ran around, exploring in a manner, Bob started to fix some food.

Despite it being dinner, he fixed breakfast; sausages, eggs, jam covered toast and bacon. As he poured two glasses of cold milk, he found himself wondering what happened to Bart. What did his family do, per say his father actually, to make him run off in the rain? Then again, the real question was…when should he ask Bart?

"Bob…" Speak of the devil! "Can I talk a shower after we eat?"

Something overcame the older man, destroying his wise common sense. He turned and suddenly pinned the teen to the wall, his wrists above his head. Their lips crashed together, Bob's tongue forcing itself into his mouth. He heard Bart moan as he sucked on his tongue.

The boy's body shivered and soon they were fighting for command in the kiss. When the need for air was too much, however, Bob pulled away with a groan. Bart rubbed his hips against Bob's, a growl like moan escaping his throat. "Forget breakfast…" He whispered, the lust destroying his sense of time, "Shower, now!"

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Next chapter: Shower time ;D Plus Bart tells Bob what happened. Review please.


	22. Chapter 22

Bart felt his face heat up with embarrassment

Bart felt his face heat up with embarrassment. His eyes sparkled with disbelief of the situation. His body felt as though he was on fire and his pants were tight. He followed Sideshow Bob up the tapirs which felt like forever, a vortex venture to the shower.

He was going to take a shower with Sideshow Bob! The mere thought made his knees weak, almost making him stumble twice. He smiled though, joy and nervousness going through his veins. What if he messed up? What if Bob didn't want an inexperienced boy?

Would he be kicked out of the house for it? What if this love he proclaimed for Bart was just really lust? If he was kicked out, he would have nowhere to go. No way in hell would he go back home and be sent to some stupid thing that his father signed him up for!

They finally reached the bathroom and with a quick twist and turn of the knobs, warm water fell. They closed the door despite no one being in the house other than themselves. After all, they didn't want to let the steam or screams escape the room.

Bart couldn't believe what was going to happen! Actually, now that he thought of it…he didn't _know _what was going to happen. "Bob," he gasped out as the man nearly ripped off his shirt. "I-I don't know what to do in a shower…with…with a guy."

At the sound of his meek voice, Bob looked up from taking off his own clothes. "Don't know?" There was shock and disbelieve in his glee filled eyes. Lust overcame them and his voice became deeper, husky with need. "I'll teach you…I'll show you what to do…and then you'll do it to me."

They stepped inside the tub, relaxing when the water sprayed on them. Bob hesitated for a moment, debating what to do first. So many options! A grin, a lustful one, came across his face and for a moment, Bart felt fear. It was so similar to the one he wore when he thought of an evil plan or a way to kill Bart.

Instead, it was the opposite. He grabbed a blue car of Dove soap and lathered it up by rubbing it under the water. Once it was wet and soapy, he turned Bart so his back was pressed against Bob's front. Once more, Bart felt his cheeks heat up as he felt something poke him. No way was that a knife!

The cool bar of soap came across his neck first, in a cutting fashion. It rubbed the boys' skin, his neck and behind his ears which made him moan ever so softly. There was a hotspot Bob mapped mentally. He could use it to his advantage later.

Then the soap came across his chest, going in circles around his nipples. Bart gave a soft whimper, feeling Bob's free hand gently play and pinch them. When it, and Bob's free hand, rubbed against Bart's erection, his moan became loud and almost pleading. Bob's dark chuckle only made him harder under his hand, the lust inside him making him thrust upwards. "Ah, ah, ah." He tsked softly, "Not yet." Bart growled in annoyance at this but stopped once he was shoved into the showers spray.

Once the soap was gone from his body, he felt a tongue lick the back of his ear immediately. It was as though it was a replacement. Bart shivered, a soft gasp leaving his mouth. Bob's teeth latched onto his earlobe, sucking teasingly while his hands played with the young lad's nipples.

When Bart's nails sunk into his shoulder, biting his own lip, Bob moved on. Although he wasn't a submission, he got on his knees before Bart. It was only for teaching purposes, he thought. He kept telling himself that weak lie even though Bart's eyes showed that he knew exactly what was going to happen. He wouldn't admit that he _wanted _to do this of his own free will.

The mouth that spewed frightening threats, repeated great literature and struck fear, and lust, into Bart's heart opened. It enclosed around the young boys length, making him whimper from the unexpected heat.

Bob's tongue, apparently, was not only talented in kissing!

He licked the head, tasting the pre-cum. The legendary prankster gripped the ex-clown's hair, moaning as Bob licked the underside. Such pleasure, such sinful pleasure was never given to Bart before. It traveled through his veins, making him feel drunk beyond belief. Perhaps he was drunk with pleasure!

A soft lick to his balls made his knees buckle slightly. The "teacher" sucked the boys length, feeling his own manhood grow heard with every moan, every whimper, every groan, and every gasp Bart gave.

Of course this was his first blowjob so Bart didn't last long, not to mention the earlier stuff made him weak. Bob sucked greedily when Bart came. His scream echoed in the small steamed room. The water turned chilly, his knees were like jelly like his body. Carefully they stepped out and dressed.

A hand grabbed the back of his neck, making him stand up straight. "If you ever grip my hair again, young Bart Simpson, I will bite." Bob whispered in the boy's ear before leaving Bart alone and with another erection.

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I hope you like it. Next chapter: Bob and Bart's day at home. Perhaps a look at Simpsons home. Review!


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks for all the reviews! Yay! Here's an interesting turn of events that I thought of suddenly. We should be done with this story with less than 10 chapters.**

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Bart dried off and hesitated in getting dressed. His clothes weren't exactly the cleanest things and after taking a shower to get clean (despite getting dirty, hint, hint) he felt as though he shouldn't put them on again. He would feel the grim and dirt on them.

Instead, he walked out of the room with the towel around his waist. Oh how tempting it would be to slide down this stair rail naked! Shaking off the impulse, he walked down the stairs instead. The carpet under his feet made him grin; it felt so much cleaner and fresher than it did at home!

Home…it felt like years since he had been there despite leaving there a week or two ago. So much had happened in those few days that forced him to be driven far away. Could he even call that place 'home'? Or could he call Bob's home, his home as well?

When his feet touched the cold ground, he snapped out of his thoughts. Looking around, he wondered faintly where Bob could be. What had he been doing before they went to…shower? Wow, that seemed like **ages** ago! That just shows, Bart thought to himself, how much sex can make time fly by.

He heard the faint sounds of pots and pans hitting together, a slight hiss and a curse. Had Bob just burned himself? Walking over to the kitchen, he stood at the doorway. The older man was cursing in a low tone, holding his finger which was a dark pink. The pan was on the oven which was burning brightly.

Bart slipped over, knowing the man was too deep in pain to notice, and grabbed his finger. Bob looked up, surprised. The teenager smirked as he slid the injured finger in his mouth, hearing Bob moan with both relief and sexual frustration. He sucked on it lightly, to make sure the burning sensation was no more…and to mess with him.

Finally, Bob pulled away. His breathing was in a slight huff, as though he ran a mile. He pulled away and started to cook some food. Of course the young Simpson saw why he turned away; the bulge in his pants gave it away.

"So Whatcha cooking?" The teen slipped closer, looking at the meat on the frying pan.

"Food."

"What kind?"

Bob glared, "Breakfast; sausages, bacon and toast with orange juice."

Bart looked out the window near by, seeing the sun sink down slowly. "…But it's night time."

"I know that."

He raised an eyebrow, "Then…why are you making breakfast at night, Bob?"

Suddenly Bob snapped around and snarled, "You ask too many questions, go watch T.V…before I spank you with this." In his hand was a spatula but there was a gleeful sparkle in his eye, a grin that threatened to show on his lips. He was kidding! Or was he?

Deciding not to risk it, he went over to the living room and sat on the rather cozy couch. It felt like it ate him! The soft cushions sunk when he laid his body on it. It was very tempting to fall asleep on this cloud like creation, especially after his…shower. But the smell of food made his stomach growl, forcing him to stay awake.

"Brinner is served." Bob stood before him, grinning wickedly.

"Brinner?" Bart echoed stupidly, grabbing the older man's hand to help stand up. His body had relaxed completely on that piece of furniture and now, he felt…well, like jello.

"Yes, dinner and breakfast combined."

Bart chuckled and ran to the kitchen, dodging any playful insults or grabs.

As they ate, they were silent. Bob was thinking about what to say, what to ask. Bart was thinking of life with Bob…oh how it would be so great if he could call this place home!

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Both looked at each other before looking at the door. Getting up, they opened it to see a woman with jet black curly hair, her lips red, her ears pieced with gold hoops. She wore a white top with a dark blue skirt…and had a small miniature Bob next to her side.

It was his wife!

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Next chapter: His wife is back! Oh no! We'll hear her explanation and Bob's reasoning for why Bart is there with them. Review!

Sorry everyone, I would have written more but it's noon and I need to mow the grass. Ever try to cut grass in a wood area of 6 acres in the middle of a Texas afternoon? It takes hours! So I'll be too tired, and busy with watching Sweeney Todd with family, when I get back to write more. I'll update soon though!


	24. Chapter 24

**Thanks to Opaque Opal & Nightmare2Day for reviewing!**

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There stood Sideshow Bob's wife Francesca with his son, Gino. And here stood Sideshow Bob with a burnt finger and his mouth hanging. Next to him was the teenager Bart Simpson wearing only a towel around his waist. You can see the tension and confusion this created.

"My husband!" She exclaimed with a huge smile, moving forward to hug the stunned ex-clown.

"My papa!" Gino exclaimed as well, running up to hug his father's leg. The boy looked to be about six, maybe seven.

Bart could only stare with his mouth to the ground. The father and husband couldn't move, his eyes still huge as though he was frozen like that. Both of them had one thought on their mind, _'What are they doing here?!"_

The lady looked over the house, obviously happy to see it basically spotless. The little boy, however, grumbled as he looked around; there were no toys! Had they lived in this house with Bob before Bart? It would make sense but since they married in Italy, when would they have had the time to move and live here?

Suddenly the pair caught sight of the half naked Bart Simpson.

"Robert, what is _he_ doing here?" Francesca spoke with her thick accent.

Her son growled, "Vendetta on Simpson!"

Bart gulped and stepped back, feeling a slight sting of fear. He loved Sideshow Bob and trusted him with his life. However, from past experience, he couldn't help but feel like…like something might happen. For a second he thought the family would kill him, that Bob would say his 'love' was an act. Bart was ready to scream despite his recently healed throat.

Thankfully, Bob did not say nor do anything of the sorts.

Instead, he pulled away from his loving family and calmly explained as though asked about the weather. "You see, when I got back here in Springfield, I took up a job as a substitute teacher. I ended up going on a ski trip with Bart and his other classmates. Somehow there was an avalanche and we were stuck in a cabin for eight or nine days. Well, during that time we had to learn to depend on each other to survive. When we were saved, I realized that my hatred for this boy was…gone. He ran away from his house, for reasons I'm unsure of, and I allowed him to stay here for a while."

Bob always had a way for twisting the truth enough to not be called a liar. He left off a few details but that was alright. Bart resisted the urge to smile at this. Still, he couldn't help but wonder…what would she have done if she knew the rest? Probably blab to everyone.

"…But why is he naked?" Francesca questioned bluntly.

Bart's face turned pink. "My clothes were dirty and I was going to see if Bob had any I could borrow."

"Y-Yes, and that's when you…came…knocking." Bob's sentence slowed down as if he realized something. "Why are you here?"

"Silly Robert, I am your wife!" She giggled like a school girl, something that turned Bob on so many years ago.

He frowned, "Yes, you are. You're my wife who left me, saying you were fed up with my failed attempts to kill this boy right here. You took my son away from me and now you show up and expect…" His voice had risen with anger, something Bart never expected.

Did family really mean that much to him? Surely in those years that passed, he would have gotten over his wife? Or maybe he buried his pain and seeing this woman again dug it up? It made sense that he would miss his son, his only son. Although Bart couldn't relate, he could assume.

Did this mean the pain his wife dug up brought feelings as well?

"…I grew lonely. I came here to try and find you and…here we are! I have been thinking Robert…" Her accent grew husky as she grabbed his shirt collar, her eyes half closed, her lips pursed. "…Perhaps we should try to be a family again? No vendettas, no hate, no anger…a family."

Bob stared at her, his mouth hanging open. Was he shocked by what she said or how she said it? Either way, Bart felt jealousy flare up inside him like gasoline added to fire.

"I see…My wife…" He sneered slightly, "You hurt me those years ago. The pain was dull and was fading, for I was just beginning to move on. I would rather kick you out of **my **house to prevent any trouble in the future with any of my…relationships. However, the gentleman that was raised inside me won't allow it. You may stay in my house not because you're my wife, but because you are a woman. And my son may stay as well…But if you anger me once, Francesca, I will not hesitate to throw you both out."

They glared at each other for a long moment. Finally, the woman spoke up, "Fine, Robert. I'll put our son in his old room."

"And then I will show you to yours. Like I said, I have possible new relationships…I do not want you in the same bed as me. Our marriage is legal in Italy but not in the U.S." Bob stated calmly, watching her walk away.

When she was gone, Bob turned to Bart, "You'll be staying in my room. If she asks, we'll say that you have nightmares…and that I don't trust your family. Now I must go set things up. There are some clothes in our room, put them on and watch T.V. for a little bit. Behave Bart." The way his voice sounded at the end, so deep…Bart shivered with lust.

All thoughts of worry left his mind for one thing Bob said echoed in his mind. _Our room…_

Now…how to get the 'wife' and son thrown out?

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Next chapter: Bart plans to get rid of the wife and son while they do the same. Let's see how they attempt to do so without Bob noticing! Review!


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks to Tiffany123, Nightmare2Day, life has more meaning & Opaque Opal.**

**Yay! We got to 100 reviews! I'm so happy!**

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Bart found some old clothes of Bob's that seemed to be a few years old. Putting on the loose dark brown pants and a white shirt, he chuckled softly. In the mirror, he looked like he was in his early 20s!

As he sat on the very comfortable bed, he felt exhaustion hit him like a fist. After taking a hot "shower" and eating, the bed was proving to be his demise. How long did it take to show his wife to a room?! He wished to sleep but not without Bob at his side. Were they making out or…or worse?

No, he thought firmly, he wouldn't do that. He refused to think in such a crude fashion. Bob was probably talking to his son, whom he hadn't seen in a few years. From what Bart knew and saw, the man seemed to hinge on family at times. He seemed the type of guy who treasured his offspring. Bart forced himself to think that and lay on the bed. As he failed to feign off sleep, he felt jealousy.

Why couldn't he have a father like that?

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Lips were on his, teeth latched onto his ear. Bart groaned softly and swatted blindly, thinking it was some sort of bug but had his wrist caught. When he awoke fully, he saw Sideshow Bob. For a second, he thought he was back at the Simpson home and all the stuff that had happened, like the confessions of love, was just a dream.

"Bob…" he whispered, his voice rough and quiet from sleep and recent sore throat. "What time is it?" The shadows that the moonlight casted was big, giving Bob a sinister look that the young Simpson found arousing.

"You've been asleep for three hours." He stated, helping the boy up.

"Where've you been?" Try as he might, he failed to hide the accusation in his voice.

Bob smiled softly, "I've been speaking to and playing with my son. I've missed the lad but he grew tired, past his bedtime. Now I'd like to speak to you."

Despite Bob meaning to talk about the recent events, Bart whispered with a hint of seduction lacing his tone, "And play with?"

"Hmm…if you're quiet and listen to what I say, perhaps." He nibbled on the young mans ear before sitting straight. "I want you to know, young Bart, that I love you dearly." Both faces colored at the sudden statement.

Bob cleared his throat, "And I would never hurt you. My wife's appearance took me by shock and surprise and, although I'm injured, I am not a fool. I don't love her anymore, not after she hurt me so. If it weren't for my son, I'd throw her out even if it raised suspicion between us. I ask you to be kind to them.

"And last, I'll have to know what happened with your family. I don't need to look like a bumbling foolish liar if Francesca asks me anything."

Bart hesitated but nodded anyway, seeing that it was only fair after all he's done. "Well…we were driving home the long way. Mom and Lisa wouldn't even look at me! They hummed and avoided my questions. We pulled over to a gas station and when they almost threw themselves out of the car, I convinced Maggie to tell me what happened.

"She said that Homer torched my room and any traces of me. She said that he was planning to ship me off to juvi until I was legal. No one could change it except Homer but he was still in a drunken rage when they left to get me."

"So you ran until I found you." Bob placed the last piece of the puzzle in. When Bart nodded sadly, the ex-clown hugged him tightly. "You're safe now…I'll never let you go."

Bart blushed furiously but smiled a little. A few minutes later, he suddenly grabbed his manhood, feeling it somewhat hard. Bob gasped at the sudden move, gripping his wrist. "If you are _that _determined to please me, we must be silent. In this semi empty house, screams echo."

Actually, he hadn't thought of that. Bart had been looking so forward to hearing Bob scream. Then again, the feeling of danger what with the wife being near added to the excitement. The old saying was true; when a door closes, another opens.

Bart tightened his grip around the man's cock, smiling when he exhaled shakily. He ripped off the ex-clown's pants and started to stroke his erection through his boxers. Bob bit his lip and grinned at the boy, encouraging him silently.

As he removed the boxers, he felt a sudden surge of love through his blood…

(Yeah, yeah, I'm skipping it because I'm not that interested at the moment. Still, this chapter is long lol.)

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The next morning, Bart woke up first which wasn't a big shock since he had had three more hours of sleep. Quietly, he snuck down the stairs in hopes of making food for Bob. Since he made breakfast yesterday for dinner he'd have to make dinner for the morning.

However, when he stepped into the kitchen, he smelt breakfast. The wife had beaten him there! Trying to be kind like Bob asked him to, he grinned, "Good morning."

She looked over and smiled, trying to hide the hatred in her eyes. "Good morning Bart. Would you like some bacon?"

"No thanks, I'll just make some toast." A few minutes passed until she placed some food on a plate, leaving it on the table. She washed the pans next. Obviously for Bob, Bart thought with a frown.

Quickly, Bart grabbed some lasagna and cooked it. The wife rose an eyebrow, obviously curious on the boy's strange behavior. When Bob walked in, she grinned, "Here you are Robert, a beautiful breakfast!"

Bart put the lasagna in front of him instead, smirking. "Dinfast is served." It took a moment for the man to realize the inside joke and he laughed the sound echoing in the huge house.

"Alright, alright, you got me back. Well then, thank you both."

Gino cried out for his mother, who left the two guys alone. "You really trust her food?" Bart whispered with suspicion outlining his eyes.

Bob smiled, "Of course! That was one of the reasons I married her, she knew the old saying; the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. She wouldn't try to poison me…but fair warning, don't eat anything she makes for you." Bart gulped.

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Next chapter: We see a day with the wife, son and Bart. Bob's busy so he fails to notice the little pranks going on. Review!


	26. Chapter 26

Thanks to roy sandy the v, Nightmare2Day, Love2Hate, Swisssmarie & Opaque Opal.

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The rest of the morning went quietly and painless. It was about nine when Bart finally fell into a false sense of security. As long as he stayed near Bob, he thought, he'd be safe. They wouldn't try anything to run him out of the house.

Then again, maybe they would.

Gino had been playing with some strange action figures, probably from Italy…probably from a show in Italy, Bart decided. At first he sat a few feet from the T.V., not bothering to watch it. His mother was cleaning the windows near by while Bob sat on a couch, watching the news. Bart sat on another piece of furniture, his back facing the cleaning Francesca.

She turned and sprayed a heavy dose of the window cleaning above Bart's head. As it slowly fell onto the lad, she walked away quickly to clean another window behind Bob. Finally when it hit Bart, he coughed and was rubbing his eyes, which were now red.

Bob looked over, eyebrows rose, "Are you alright?" His wife looked over too, feigning concern as well.

"Y-Yeah." He coughed again, standing up to get away from the poisoned air. When he looked down, he saw Gino smirking…evilly, just like his father used to. That's when he knew it wasn't an accident. "Just peachy."

That was the first incident.

It was noon exactly when Bob stood up, stretching. "I need to go over some things in the office. Bart, I expect dinner, not brinner or dinfast, ready by the time I get out. Gino, we'll play later, alright? Thank you Francesca for cleaning." He grinned at them all before leaving.

Bart felt himself tense up subconsciously but quickly tried to relax. He didn't need to show weakness or fear in front of these people. Lying back on the couch, he listened to a Soap Opera…wow, what a way to waste a day.

He must have dozed off or something because he felt a toy figure thing get thrown at his face. Wincing, he glared at Gino, who in return seemed to be innocent. He left the toy on the ground, stretching.

The light from outside was dim, meaning it was late. Dinner should be ready…or should be readied. As he walked upstairs to see Bob, hearing the wife in the kitchen, he wondered what had happened. Perhaps he had been so tired or bored that he fell asleep.

When he stepped into Bob's office, the man looked up from his paperwork, "Evening, young Bart. I'll be…" He had looked down after the greeting, and then hesitated as if unsure of what he saw. Slowly he looked up and bursts into laughter.

Showing him a mirror, much to Bart's horror…he saw he was wearing make up.

…Damn wife and son!

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Short chapter, I know, but next will be long. Next chapter: Pranks; Romance with Bob and Bart; Some other stuff… Review!


	27. Chapter 27

**Thanks to Opaque Opal & Swisssmarie.**

**I think this is one of my best chapters for a while XD The idea just came to me in a dream…Hope you love it!**

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Bart had a scowl of annoyance on his face as he used the bathroom in Bob's office. He had a rag soaked in hot water, almost boiling, and was scrubbing furiously. This damn make up just could not and would not come off, despite his vicious attack!

"You're growling…" Bob chuckled softly from the doorway. He was leaning on it as he spoke, giving the impression of a sinister look, "I'm sure Gino didn't mean to do it. You fell asleep, a perfect target for such a young bored thing."

"Especially since he's your blood." Bart muttered, wincing as he scrubbed harder.

"Hey!" Bob smirked, "He was bored and he saw a sleeping teenager…"

"Oh yeah." Bart snorted, "And his mothers' make up just so _happened _to be there out in the open." A hesitant movement to check his face showed that he only got the blush off one cheek. He growled, "Why do women wear this?! Why not just put on permanent marker?! How do they get it off every night?!"

The older man stood behind him suddenly, one arm wrapped around his waist. "Be grateful that my son didn't have _those _at his reach." His voice was so rich, so deep, that Bart shivered.

"As good as!" He snarled.

"I like when you growl." Bob bit his ear while slyly grabbed the rag from his now limp hand. "It's…sexy." Wetting it with warm water, he gently took off the make up. It was a gentle yet swift movement on his face. "All you need is a skirt…"

Bart blushed darkly, pulling a face but pleaded by the attention. When he finished cleaning off the color, Bart's mouth dropped in shock. "How…how did you do that with such ease?!" Needless to say, he felt jealous.

Bob coughed awkwardly, looking away, "I uh…had to deal with Francesca's lipstick a lot. Now then!" He averted the subject matter and walked towards the door, "Let's go eat dinner."

"But what if she put something in my food?" He had been so intent on seeing Bob and so lost in the fact that the woman was making the meal, he had forgotten how…dangerous she could be. He didn't want to risk it.

"I'll switch with you, then with her." He kissed the teen's lips, "don't worry Bart."

When they sat down at the small table, Bart noticed the arrangement. He sat next to no one while the wife sat at the head, Bob sat next to Gino who was across from himself. Gino was grinning at Bart. However, the young man had a plan to get revenge- in front of Bob! When Francesca gave him a plate of spaghetti with little green leaves, Bob switched behind her back; now Bart had Bob's, Bob had Francesca and Francesca had Bart's.

As they ate, Bart "accidentally" spilled his milk all over the table. Most of it spilled on Gino's lap so when he gave a dismay cry and stood, ready to cry, it fell onto the floor. Two pranks for the price of one; now the son would have to change while the mother cleaned the floor. He was still King of Pranks!

Bob looked over and helped his son clean up while the wife cleaned up the floor. "Shh, Gino, my boy it's alright…It's just a little spilt milk, no need to cry. There, much better, a smile!" He soothed the young lad who grinned.

"Daddy!" He exclaimed and hugged the kneeling man suddenly, catching him off guard. Bart groaned inwardly; his plan back fired. Bob smiled and hugged his son tight, obviously over joyed.

An hour later, Bob lay on his bed, reading a book. His hair barely covered his vision, which had glasses placed before it. Bart finished brushing his teeth, staring at the man. He looked so…so…sexy in those reading glasses! Heat overtook Bart, an unbearable burning sensation, and he felt his dick grow painfully hard. This never happened before…especially with a scene of an innocent non-provoking ex-clown.

He suddenly jumped the man…literally. The book of Dante fell to the ground, uncared for at the moment. Groans and questioned that were muffled from Bob fell on deaf ears for the young man tore his shirt off. Bob finally managed to turn the tables and pin him down. "Bart!" He snapped lightly, obviously shocked by such a sudden action. "What is the matter with you? Francesca or Gino could have and still can walk in at any minute."

"I-I'm sorry. I don't k-know!" He panted heavily, "I just felt…I need you so bad, now! I don't know why but it burns! Please Bob, please!"

This was the first time young Bart Simpson begged so loud and pleadingly. "Hmm…" Bob suddenly kissed him despite his earlier warning. When he pulled away a moment later, he licked his lips. "Oh my…" A soft worried look came over his face. "I think you ate a certain…herb of Aphrodisiac."

"W-What's that?" Bart struggled against the man's grip, his body uncontrollable.

"It's a certain herb that stimulates sexual feelings. Hmm…I think it was probably meant for me when Francesca made it. I gave you my plate and…"

"I don't care, no more talking!" He snapped suddenly, "What will make it stop?!" His voice was full of desperation.

Bob smirked evilly, leaning forward to bite his ear, "Easy…you'll need release."

When Bart groaned softly, the man rubbed their hips together. By the feel of the young man's rock hard cock, Bob almost felt pity for him. No matter, by the sound of him moaning, he'd be happy soon.

Bart thrashed about, crying out in need and want. Bob quickened his pace, smiling as he felt himself grow hard as well. To tease him worse, he leaned forward and whispered, "Just imagine me going this speed, pounding into your sweet tight ass." At the sound of Bart's whimpering moan, he kept talking, "You like my voice, don't you? Like it when I speak dirty? Just wait for the night when I throw you down onto the ground, pin your hips so they won't buckle and slam my dick into you."

Suddenly Bart threw his head back and let out a quiet scream, releasing. Blackness consumed him as he saw Bob smiling as the last image. He hated the Italian woman…and yet, owed her.

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Next chapter: Pranks and talks; Rough romance. Review please!


	28. Chapter 28

**Thanks very much to those who have reviewed. I'm typing this up at school so I can't risk checking the names because I might set off the "alarm" of an "inappropriate" website. **

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Bart awoke several hours later, his body feeling like jell-o and his head swimming. What had happened? As he sat up with a soft groan, he heard a sleepy chuckle next to him. Looking over, he saw a waking Bob.

"I've never had a lover pass out from such an intense orgasm by me. I suppose that herb took its toll." He grabbed Bart's waist and pulled him down, holding him tight and close.

Bart blushed lightly and inhaled the man's scent as he rest his head on his chest. It was so…crisp and clean, despite sweating earlier. "Want to take a shower?" He blurted out.

The older one smirked, "Sure…since you got your mess all over me. However, no play for it's too early…and someone might hear us if they didn't hear you last night." With a ghost of a smirk on Bart's face, they went off to shower.

Once the water was warm, Bart grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it up. He began to wash Bob's body, smirking when he heard a soft gasp or a light groan. It was obvious he was enjoying it more than he let on, for something started to poke the young man's thigh, especially when Bob washed him.

Once finished, they raced to dress. They sat down to pancakes with some fruit. Bart tried to keep from smiling for there was another small green 'leaf' on Bob's breakfast. He switched with Francesca and gave her plate to Bart, so now he had Bart's. Gino, apparently having already eaten, was playing with his odd Italian figure toys, watching Bart.

When they finished the deliciously sweet, almost sinful, meal, Bart grinned. He tried to stand so he could put the dishes in the sink…but he couldn't stand up! Struggling, which had gotten the attention of both adults, he stood and gaped. Maple syrup was all over his pants, dripping on the covered chair and ground!

"Oh, I forgot to mention that Gino was playing with his food. I did not think he did that on the chair though." The wife giggled softly.

Despite bob trying not to, a giggle disguised as a cough came out, "Go clean, Bart. I'll clean the chair."

Roughly an hour had passed before a clean Bart stomped into Bob's office. "You know he did that stuff on purpose just like the make up!"

"Now, now…" Bob shook his head, "I'm not sure he dripped syrup on the chair on purpose. He probably did it by accident. He had no way of knowing where you'd sit."

"I sat there last night, meaning I'd sit there today!" Bart exclaimed. Although Bart felt annoyance towards the older man, he certainly knew he was just reacting like any father would- should. Even though Homer wasn't a real good father, Bart knew a father should stick up for his boy.

Shaking his head, he left the room anyway. He'd get Gino back…now…what do to it with. As he walked around the upstairs area, he fell into deep thought. How to get back at a child who did nothing but watch T.V. and play toys? How could…toys…toys!

A smirk, after many minutes, came across his face. Oh…he knew now…

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It was towards the evening when Bart sneakily came down the stairs. For whatever reason, Gino had decided to station himself just a few yards away from the stairs, his side turned to it. Thankfully though, he was too lost in his game to notice Bart basically jumping the rail to run and hide.

His plan was simple; he'd get Gino to walk off, distracting him, and then play one of his favorite toys under a rather heavy bookcase. It wouldn't snap the figure until he tried to pull it out, thus ending with _his _fault.

Bart managed to pitch his voice high and fake a decent Italian accent, "Gino, come help mama!"

The child looked up and ran into the kitchen, passing Bart who had been hiding behind a potted plant. As soon as he was positive that Gino was looking around, far from the living room, Bart snuck over. He grabbed some weird looking toy that had a mustache and placed half of it under a heavy bookcase, the other half exposed to be pulled.

Bart leaned against the stair railing, watching Gino came back. He looked around, ignoring the young man and searching for his lost toy. As soon as he found it, he grabbed the top part and pulled and…**snap.**

It broke in half.

Gino started off whining, which echoed loudly upstairs and caught his father's attention. When Bob came down, Gino started full of bawling. Bart felt his jaw drop; this kid could perform just like his father!

Bob rushed over and hugged him, holding him. "Shh, little one, what's wrong?"

With tears falling like a waterfall, he pointed at Bart, "He broked my toy!"

"Why?" Bob turned to Bart, who was at a loss for words.

"It…I was getting back at him for the syrup." Although this wasn't the smartest thing Bart could have said, it was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

While Francesca took her crying son, Bob stormed towards the young man with eyes lit with rage. He grabbed Bart's wrist and dragged him upstairs in such a way that he felt eight years old again. He felt like Bob was going to kill him…maybe he was.

When they reached his office, bob locked the door. "I know you act immature, that's one of the reasons why I adore you, but for you to be more immature than a child?! For you to harm a child?!"

Bart frowned, not about to take this, "I was not going to let your son keep pranking me, trying to drive me away." He wasn't going to let Bob make him feel like a kid again.

"You're older!" He boomed, "You're older than Gino and should behave at your age! To 'get back' at a child shows how idiotic and ignorant you can be! You broke his toy and made him cry, Bart! And why?! Because he put a little paint and sticky liquid on you!"

"He's trying to drive me out!"

"You fool; he's a child who sees you as a threat!" Bob went on, "He knows I spent more time with you than him and he wants more attention!"

"Then go side with him, be blind! Be a fool you proclaim me to be!" Bart winced when he felt the man's hand across his face. Anger forced him to shout the next sentence, which he regretted immediately, "Spend more time with him, I don't need you!"

Silence.

"…Fine, I don't need you either." When he stormed off, Bart fell and felt tears of his own fall. He wished Francesca and Gino never came.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hehehe, we are nearing the end! As soon as I'm finished with this, I'm gonna post a Kim Possible fic 'Monkey Love II'. XD I'll be making a new Simpson one though. Maybe the idea will involve kidnapping of Bart and living with Bob, trying to survive the lust driven monster? XD Lol. Idk.**

**Short chapter, only because I'm running low on time today.**

**Thanks to Gianna, Beriipop, MadAnge & Swisssmarie for reviewing.**

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The next day was horrible. Wait; let me back up a little.

Later that night, Bart was lying on his side of the bed. He had his back towards the door and his front facing the window, allowing him to see half a hidden moon. The clouds were moving so painstakingly slow, keeping some hidden of the white beauty, some not.

For the past few hours, all he had done was lay there. At first, he felt anger. Anger at Gino and Francesca, hating them for coming here and destroying everything. But he knew he shouldn't have let the little boy's pranks get to him that easily. He was at the age and from his age all the way to about 13, he pulled pranks as well. So yes, he was admitting silently and to no one that it was his fault for being so sucked into it.

Then he felt depression and, boy, did it hit him hard! For the past hour, he spent his time crying silently. They were silent sobs and wails, but when they got a little out of hard, he bit into his pillow. This often made it worse since Bob's scent was on it. Finally, he was all cried out. He felt nothing, just pain and depression.

Closing his eyes, he felt weariness seep through his limbs. He felt exhausted…tired…hurt. Why had he said that? Why did he do that? Oh, regret is such a bitch!

"Bart…?" Bob's voice awoke him. He felt the man's presence at the doorway which was now closed, hesitate. From what Bart could guess, he was just standing there, unsure if he should lie in his own bed. Such irony, Bart would have laughed if he was not so tired…and if his limbs didn't feel heavy…and if he had control of his body.

"Bart, are you awake?" He asked.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing the man. The shadows hid him quite well and, for a second, Bart wondered if he was going to kill him. Old habits and thoughts die hard. "…Maybe…" He whispered, his voice choked and broken from crying. It was almost as bad as having a sore throat. With the way his voice was scratchy, you'd think he ate a log or something.

Bob sighed softly, either venting his frustration or perhaps showing his relief that he hadn't been talking to himself. Or perhaps both, it was possible after all. The man's footsteps were loud in this silent room. Bart winced inwardly but refused to scoot away from the sound.

When Bart felt the bed sink, he tensed. He felt the man's hand on his shoulder, "Bart…I…I am sorry. The toy is fixed, all I needed to do was snap the two halves together. And…What I said earlier…I need you, Bart."

Without warning, he found himself hugged tightly by the young lad.

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Next chapter: Pranks and hatred. Perhaps the ultimate prank to throw the wife/son out? Review!


	30. Chapter 30

The next day was silent in the morning. No one awoke before eleven, which was pretty late in the day. Of course that was to be expected considering the recent events.

Gino was asleep from crying his heart out yesterday, no doubt. Francesca was probably tired from comforting her son all night and was still out like a light. Bob was exhausted from his son as well, also from comforting his lover. Bart, however, had awoken at ten.

Yes, he was still exhausted from crying his worries and fears out last night but…he just couldn't sleep. He had dreamt of the wife and son ruining his life here. He had dreamt a horrible nightmare that they ruined his life and, eventually, ruined his love with Bob. In this worry that his subconscious put together, Bob left him and went back with his wife and son, claiming he wanted to be normal again. Then…they all killed him.

So now Bart just lay on his side, resting his head on the fluffy pillow while watching the love of his life sleep. Bob lay on his back, mumbling every now and then, but otherwise sleeping peacefully. He looked so relaxed, so calm…so handsome. Bart smiled at this and couldn't help but wonder how many times the older man had studied him in his sleep.

That's when he realized something.

How many times had his wife done this? Faintly he remembered that when his family got stuck in Italy, the lady said something about him 'making love like a man who just got out of prison'. Bart knew how babies were made but he didn't really think of it a lot. Now that he remembered that faint memory, he couldn't help but wonder just how many times they…

No, he wouldn't think of that. Bob loved **him **now, not **her.** Although they hadn't had sex, or made love technically, he knew that Bob did love him. He was just…waiting for Bart to be okay with having sex. It was new for both of them, he assumed. Not only was he waiting Bart's approval, but he was probably waiting for a time where the wife and son were out or something.

But that was the problem. They would never…never be able to do anything with his wife in the same house. They wouldn't be able to make love as loud as they wanted. They wouldn't be able to kiss each other through out the day. They wouldn't be able to say those special three words.

She had to leave.

Closing his eyes, he wondered of how to do it. Mess up the house? No, she had a son who was roughly seven years old; a messy house was what she dealt with for seven years. Mess her up? Destroy her clothes, her make up and such? No, she'd go buy some new ones. Then how to…he got it.

To drive her away, he'd need to drive the son away.

And in his mind formed an evil plan.

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Next chapter: We see the plan. Review!


	31. Chapter 31

**Much to my displeasure, I cannot thank the people who reviewed because I'm at school and cannot access the site. However, I will thank everyone next chapter. I'm only typing this up here because I have time during school…not at home. Anyway, here's the plan. I hope no one finds it disturbing…well, no more than usual. It was the only plan that wasn't predictable and easy-ish.**

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By the time the clock downstairs rang eleven times, everyone in the house was awake. Maybe not alert, but awake none the less. Bob yawned and turned on his side, facing the very awake Bart. A smile grew on his lips, "Good morning…"

Bart smiled back, a sparkle in his eye, "Good morning. Feel like getting up?" Although he knew his plan needed to be done, he still longed just to stay in bed and relax. After that fight last night, they probably needed (nay, deserved) a good few hours alone to talk it out. Still, he wouldn't suggest it…unless the older man did first.

And from the looks of it, it wasn't likely.

"Not really but the thought of a shower and some coffee seem very…welcoming." Bob answered smoothly.

Bart raised an eyebrow and although he knew the real meaning, he decided to play dumb, "A shower, hm? Mind if I...come with you?"

The older man chuckled and pinned the young one down with such speed that Bart gasped. Taking advantage of it, he slid his tongue into his mouth and grinded his hips against his when Bart moaned softly. "Oh yes, you can come with me, Bart…" He whispered before sucking on his earlobe, "But I don't think you can last as long as I can."

Bart whined, thrusting his hips up for more. However, Bob pulled away quite suddenly, "Now then, I'm going to shower. If you want…You can join if you think you can last as long as I can, my little inexperienced Bart. If not, dress and go get some breakfast."

With cheeks hot to the touch, Bart got dressed in a flash and was downstairs before a drip of water dropped in the tub! Although he was downstairs, he tried to stay as far away from the living and kitchen as possible. The tent he was pitching in his pants might have, just might have, gotten some unwanted attention and questions.

Oh how that man drove Bart wild! He was so impulsive when he wanted to be, so reckless when he threw out the rules of caution. That was probably why he used to get into jail a lot…used to try and kill Bart. Still, the man was…sexy, in a word. He grinned weakly, thinking about how his voice was so rich and deep and..

No! He wouldn't think about his hot voice. He was trying to calm _down_, now get riled _up_. Not right now in the middle of downstairs at least. Perhaps later tonight when his plan was complete. Oh wait…maybe he wouldn't need to imagine his voice. Maybe Bob would speak and…Ahem.

By the time he finally calmed down, Bob had already showered and dressed. When he came downstairs, Bart smiled. He looked so handsome, so attractive. No wonder Francesca married him!

"Still having problems?" His voice held a hint of teasing and taunting.

The young man smirked, "Was. So, let's go eat, shall we?"

When they sat down, being served French toast sticks, Bart noticed there was no green leaf or any evidence of herbs. Bob too had noticed and double checked all their plates for any foul play. Once happy, he switched with Bart who switched with Francesca. They were all served orange juice, which tasted sweet and from ripe fruit!

Glancing around, Bart suddenly said, "You know…I was thinking earlier about jobs. Then I thought about how you had to build that dam. Remember how I used to stalk you, waiting for you to be evil again?"

Bob nearly choked on his drink, hitting his chest with his fist to keep breathing. "Oh yes," He chuckled darkly, "That's exactly how it happened- in a nutshell. You and your sister wouldn't give me a moment's peace! Everywhere I turned, I saw your huge eyes full of fear and curiosity. I must admit, I was surprised to see that you stuck to your threat…after ruining my date with Edna."

Bart chuckled weakly, "Oh yeah…I forgot about that. You're not mad still are you?"

"No, I'm not still sore. Mmm…this is delicious Francesca." He complimented his 'wife'. She nodded and smiled, thanking him in Italian. What else did she say in that? Shaking his head, he kept eating his breakfast.

Silence overtook them once more but was broken when Bob looked around. "Where's Gino at?"

"He's sleeping still." Francesca answered and then glared at the young Simpson, "He's tired from crying half the night."

Bob understood the double meaning of that and quickly rushed to his aid, "No worries, he's a growing boy. He'll need to know disappointment and tears one day. Now then, I think I'm going upstairs for a while. I'll be down before three." He left to his office and, knowing that Gino was upstairs, Bart smiled.

Gino couldn't alert his mother of what he saw and his mother wouldn't see Bart. Quietly, he jogged upstairs and smiled. Now was the time to put the plan to action.

Opening the door, he saw that Gino had awoken perhaps a few minutes earlier. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and then looked over for his toys. Once finding them and picking them up, he finally noticed Bart. Scowling, he glared at the boy.

"Hey, you wanna see something real gross about your daddy?" Bart questioned, knowing he caught the boy's curiosity. Although the boy was a little too young to know what sex was, he probably knew that his mother and father were supposed to kiss and hug only. He probably knew that if is dad kissed or hugged anyone else, especially a guy for example, that it meant trouble.  
If he didn't, then Bart's plan just became trash.

Once he was sure the little boy was following him, he made the sign to be quiet by placing his finger over his lips. After he was positive the young child would be quiet and hidden, Bart knocked on a door.

"Yes, what is it?" Bob opened the door with his glasses on.

With a grin, Bart said, "Hey…You got a few minutes to spare?"

"Why?" He looked suspicious and lowered his voice, "Don't tell me that she slipped some sort of sex drug into your food again! She'd have to know it was hers or…"

To shut the older man up, Bart stepped forward, wrapped his arms around his neck and planted a wet one on his lips! Bob hesitated but, hoping that no one would see, he wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed back. Several breathless moments passed and after Bart was certain that Gino had seen enough, he rubbed against Bob and pulled away. "Get back to work…Bob." The older man smiled and shook his head, chuckling silently as he closed the door.

Turning back to the seven year old, Bart smirked evilly, "Your dad doesn't love your mom…your mom is in pain from staying here, watching me and your dad together. You don't want to cause your mom pain, do you? Then leave…tell her you want to leave now!"

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Next chapter: Aftermath.


	32. Chapter 32

Thanks to Swisssmarie and MadAnge for reviewing

**Thanks to Swisssmarie and MadAnge for reviewing. Sorry for the long wait, I've been busy with school, other stories and a church lock in that RULED XD**

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Bart could only wear a very smug grin as he watched the young boy turned a pale green. Whether he was fighting the urge to vomit or was just in plain shock, or perhaps both, Bart just knew that his plan had worked. He felt so strong, so powerful at this moment!

Suddenly, Gino ran down the stairs but hesitated. He made sure he was in the living room or kitchen area before crying. Even then, his cries were soft to where they wouldn't echo loudly upstairs. It was obvious, Bart smirked as he leaned on the stair railing, that he didn't want to make his father come down here.

"Mama!" He cried out as the woman picked him up and held him close. Bart didn't understand any more after that for he spoke in Italian! This made the teenager worry slightly; what if he was telling Francesca what had happened in his own language? What if Bob heard the soft spoken words of his other known language and came down to investigate, ending up in realizing what Bart did?

This didn't become much of a worry since the wife repeated in English, "You want to leave? Oh, but Gino, surely you just imagined the ghost and…" A ghost? Well it wasn't much for creativity but the kid was only a kid. Good enough.

"No!" Gino exclaimed like he child he was, "I want to leave now! I hate Papa!" After some more dialogue between them, in Italian no doubt, the wife nodded slowly.

"Go pack your things, Gino, and we'll be out before sundown."

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Next chapter: Aftermath of aftermath XD Sorry, but I had to post this as a suspense thing. Review!


	33. Chapter 33

**Thanks to all who reviewed. There will only be another chapter or two before it's done.**

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"_Go pack your things, Gino, and we'll be out before sundown." _

For the rest of the day, Bart was smiling. Something about accomplishing such a task, to drive two people one, and finishing what he started made him feel happy, proud even. Part of him wanted to avoid both the wife and son but decided against it. He needed to keep an eye on Gino and an ear open just in case the little brat decided to spill what he had saw.

When nightfall came, he glanced up at Bob's office. He had stayed in there all day except for bathroom breaks. Looking at the door, he smirked to see Francesca with one bag and Gino with two. The front door closed, hiding and locking them out. I could go on and on, talking about detailed things and agony and such but it would be pointless. They left…simple as that.

So when the sun went down around seven, Bart was in the kitchen alone. He felt normal again, he felt like he was safe. No one to watch over him, no one to cook and try to poison him, no one to harm him…he was safe and alone with Bob at long last! Now he was the one who would clean, who would cook, who would take care of him. Yes it sounded very busy and probably a lot of work, but at least he felt no jealousy or competition.

Bob's footfalls were heard and Bart grinned. He had just gotten done making grilled cheese with fries for them. Placing them on two plates, he opened the refrigerator for some sodas…but stopped. There was a note on there.

"Bart?" Bob called out, slightly surprised, "Where's Francesca and Gino? Why is there only two plates out? Did they decide to eat out tonight?"

The thought of Bob being sad about his son gone hadn't crossed the teen's mind. He didn't really think about how he'd react. He knew he would be happy about his wife being gone, that way they'd be 'alone' but his son was a different story. Hesitating, he looked over and gave him the hand written note.

_"Dear Bob,_

_Gino told me that he saw a ghost in this house. He told me several stories in which I find it hard to believe. I know you and your ex-enemy are together, Bob. You sleep in the same bed, your gazes linger, and you always have a protective look when you are near him. I find it funny that you tried to kill him but now you want to keep him alive. I do not like that you are in love with the boy, I hate that he has stolen you…but I am happy for you. Gino will write you letters, call you, and perhaps see you once or twice every few months. We are not leaving this country, merely going over to that Shelbyville area. I will call you once we reach our new home._

_-Love,_

_Francesca and Gino"_

All of it had been in very neat and pretty hand writing while Gino's name was…well, written by him. Bob stood there a long time. How long had the woman known?

"Well…At least…at least I can see my son in the next town." Bob looked up; oblivious to Bart's doing to this. "Forget dinner…let's go to…bed." It was painfully obvious that he had lust on the mind, celebrating that his family was gone instead of being sad.

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Next chapter: ROMANCE! Review XD


	34. Chapter 34

**Thanks to Opaque Opal (missed you! XD), MadAnge, & Sacharissa Lupin. I spent a lot of time trying to make this detailed and such, esp. the lemon scene. There will be…one chapter left, then I'll post a new story. It'll be basically the struggle Bart faces when he's kidnapped by a love-struck-wanna-be-killer Bob. **

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Surprise was one of the first things Bart felt. He stood there as though his feet had been impaled into the ground with nails or something. The dinner he cooked was getting cold. When they finished, no doubt the cheese would be cold and the fries would taste half baked. Of course food was the last thing on his mind…unless it was used during sex or something.

Sex…

Bart wondered in that brief second that felt like an eternity…What exactly was Bob planning? Sure these past few weeks- or had they been long painful days?- had meant hardly any…pleasure. His wife and son were near and in this big house with marble floors and hallways, with hardly any carpet to soak up the sound, anything and everything echoed.

Even though Bart was the type of teenager to have his head in the clouds, not pay attention in school, and fail to speak or recognize big words…one word came to his mind. Actually two words did; sexual frustration. Bob was a grown man who was released out of prison and kicked out of his home by his wife. No doubt he felt the lust of a hormonal teenager…like Bart!

Somehow during this few seconds (which seemed to drag on like hours) Bob had walked over to stand behind him. His breath against Bart's ear was driving the young lad insane! He felt the older man's hips rub against his, feeling his hard cock dig into the back of his thigh. A blush spread on Bart's face but he ignored it, too caught up in moaning softly at the feeling of sucking on his neck.

"Come upstairs Bart." His sentence held a double meaning. "Come with me…"

"Oh I want to…so bad…" Bart whispered softly, without meaning to voice his thoughts. "Please…" The way Bob skillfully moved his hips drove him mad with lust.

"Tell me what you want." It wasn't a suggestion…it was a command, an order. An order from an ex-wanna-be-murderer. Bart felt himself grow harder, gulping.

"I-I want you…I want you to make love to me." Despite his attempts to speak bravely, his voice cracked with need. It only proved how much of a teenager he was. Or did it prove how much lust he held? Either way, it obviously didn't turn off the ex-clown.

"My little wanton thing…My teasing creature that sends any man driven into insanity of lust…" Bob whispered softly, nibbling on his ear. Bart whimpered and pushed his hips back, making the older man exhale sharply at the feeling. He suddenly walked off, dragging him up the stairs.

When they reached the bedroom, everything seemed so new to Bart. Everything felt so foreign as if this were his first night here again. The only difference was the condoms, the lube, and the fact that he wasn't going to 'shower', he was going to…wait! The condoms?! The lube?! His cheeks turned crimson like an apple.

So Bob _was _thinking sex!

With an almost sadistic grin, Bob looked down at the blushing virgin, "Well?"

"W-Well what?" It was a miracle he could even speak.

"Well, what do you say?" He whispered, a hint of another emotion in his voice. It was fear in his voice, fear of being rejected. "Do you really want this?"

Bart looked up at the man who tried to kill him those years ago. He did not see the ex sidekick who tried to frame Krusty, he did not see the man who wanted to destroy him, he did not see a criminal. He saw the man he loved with his heart and soul. "Yes…"

A huge smile found its way on Bob's face. Suddenly Bart felt himself being lifted and, just as quick as being lifted, was thrown onto the bed. His growing body bounced three times before coming to an abrupt stop, Bob laying partly on him. His mouth covered the boys, a simple kiss.

Slyly, the older man placed his hand directly onto of Bart's head. Surprised at his accuracy, Bart gasped softly and whimpered when he realized Bob's plan; his tongue was now in his mouth. Bart's eyes fluttered closed as he dug his nails into the man's shoulder.

Placing his body almost perfectly on Bart's body, he grinded their hips together. Moans were muffled by their mouths as their erections rubbed together, causing incredible pleasure. This made Bart want even more, whimpering from under his captive's body. Understanding his wordless plea, he fastened his pace.

Bob's hands were holding the boy's wrists down above his head, their mouths pulling away to breathe for only a few moments before attacking each other again. No wonder they could barely breathe! Somehow though, Bart suspected that the feeling of his head swimming had nothing to do with lack of oxygen.

Minutes slipped by before Bart felt the pleasure double. Pulling away, he gasped softly for air as he let Bob rub against him. By the older man's grunts, it was pretty obvious he was close too. The young Simpson's eyes rolled back slightly as he let out a cry, feeling him and his lover cum at the same time.

Lying next to Bart, Bob smiled weakly and rested for the moment. The way Bart looked, looked like he was drowning in bliss, made Bob hard almost instantly. Turning to his older lover, Bart kissed his neck and smirked when he shivered. Switching their positions, Bart nibbled on his ear. A low hiss of pleasure egged him on, encouraging him to keep biting on his ear…and neck.

His fingers wrapped around Bob's clothed member, pulling back from attacking his neck to see his face when he gasped. Taking advantage, just like he did to Bart, the young lad kissed him, sucking on his tongue lightly. No doubt he was smiling, thinking he was the luckiest man in the world.

Slowly, he began to pump Bob's manhood. Such an inexperienced hand on an experienced piece of flesh. Smirking, he began a faster pace. A twitch of a smile came on his face but disappeared as he groaned softly. Perhaps it was just the idea of young Bart giving him a hand job that made him so close.  
The way those kissable lips were parted, the way his dark eyes became dazed and glazed over, the way his body arched up…he looked perfect like that. Bob called out Bart's name as he came, gasping softly. Once again, Bob's erection sprang to life when he watched Bart slowly lick the cum off his fingers, obviously shy about it.

"Enough!" Bob rasped out, making the poor young man jump. Pulling him down, and laying on him, he stripped him of his messy pants. When all their clothes were off, Bob looked down and studied the youngster as if he were stained glass. Such beauty!

Their lips met once more but it was much gentler than the last time, calmer and more loving. He tasted so sweet like strawberries, or maybe cotton candy. It was intoxicating, like alcohol. It was additive. The next few minutes were spent mostly holding and fondling.

"Bob…" Bart whispered, hardly able to pull away to speak. "Bob, please, I…I need you so bad!" Need, want, and lust were in his voice, which was begging. "Please, I really want you!"

Amused by such an act, he leaned forward and whispered; "Really now? Beg more…" As Bart spoke, he licked his ear and sucked on his ear lobe.

"Ooh…" Bart let out a shaky exhale. "I need you…need your dick in me…"  
_"Probably the most poetic thing I'll get out of a teenager."_ Bob thought with humor as he reached over to the nightstand. He placed the condom over his erect manhood and looked at Bart when he grabbed the lube. "Are you sure you want this?"

Rolling his eyes, he almost sneered, "Yes already! Didn't you hear me the last twenty minutes?"

Just to be a tease, he whispered hotly in his ear, "Speak to your teacher like that again, Mr. Simpson, and I'll punish you." The thought of correcting that he was a substitute teacher left Bart's mind for he felt a finger stretch him suddenly. Whining softly, he arched his lower back up, feeling another finger enter him.

Bob pulled away and smiled, placing the head of his covered cock at his entrance. To try and make it seem less painful as he slowly moved forward, Bob pinched his nipples while kissing him. He strongly suspected that if he didn't have his mouth over Bart's, he was pretty sure that Bart would be screaming.

As he waited for the young man to get used to the feeling, he was surprised when he heard Bart speak. "Come on Bob, you spend half my life being sadistic and the one time I _want _pain is the time you decide to be gentle!"

"Oh?" Bob smirked with an almost monstrous look. To prove him wrong, Bob pulled away and slammed into him. Satisfaction overcame Bob when he heard the young man give a cry out.

His pace was supposed to be slow and gentle. However, after that little comment, he grew rough and fast. Even Bart's whimpers, whines, and begs couldn't slow him down. In fact, they were encouraging him to go harder, to slam into him faster.

Bart let out a yell of incredible pleasure when he felt Bob hit his pleasure spot. The way Bob stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowed with a huge grin on his face, made Bart harder. "I wonder what I found…" He taunted as he resumed his pace again, purposely missing that spot except a few times.

Both men felt the pleasure, the pressure, build up. Hitting his prostate again with each thrust, Bart threw his head back and cried out a very strangled version of Bob's name while the man did the same.

Bart felt his limbs turn to mush when Bob pulled out, landing next to him. They looked at each other, both wearing a tired smile. Bob wrapped his arms around the sweaty boy and held him close. Eyes fluttering closed; Bart couldn't help but wonder if this was heaven.


	35. Chapter 35

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I would love to name you all off but it would take WAY too much space lol. I don't mind usually, but let's save the space for the story, eh? Lol. This is a short ending but still sweet, I hope. I was so reluctant to end this XD**

**My next story should be posted in less than a month, depending on how many stories/shows I get inspired by. Thanks to everyone again, I'm so happy this story has been a hit!**

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"Bart?" A voice called from far, far away. "Bart?" It echoed, or seemed to at least. Bart moaned softly and turned away. Where was the voice coming from though? Was it coming from that long dark tunnel he saw with colorful spots in it? Or was it just his subconscious mind, trying to tell him it was well past noon.

That explained the heat on his body. At first he thought a fire had started, especially since he lived in a house with Homer Simpson for a good portion of his life. But after feeling no pain, he began to think he lay near a window. However, if he was bathing in sunlight, that meant two things. One, he should have seen some sort of light shining on his closed eyelids…but he saw darkness. And two…he would have to be completely naked to feel the sun's wrath on his body so well.

"Bart…wake up." The voice was still soft yet held a hint of firmness in it; not many people in Bart Simpson's life could do that. It echoed still, as though locked in a tunnel where a train went through, but not as bad. It sounded like sophistication…it sounded like…

"Bob…" He whispered softly, his conscious mind finally catching up to his subconscious mind. "Bob, where are you?" His tired eyes would not let him see his surroundings. For all he knew, he could be in the middle of the beach and not know it!

A chuckle was heard to the right of him, weight pulling down the bed he was on. Bart's sore body shifted slightly because of the weight, proving he was indeed not at the beach…but laying in bed. By the feel of his body, which was in the sun's rays, it held a thin sheet over it.

"I'm right here, silly boy." He spoke softly, stroking Bart's hair. The young lad smiled weakly, still reluctant to fully wake up. There was a certain sort of peace in the ex-clown's voice that soothed Bart. The gentle concern and caring was bright in his voice, making Bart's body relax and turn to mush. The love…oh, the love that was evident in Bob's tone made the young Simpson start to fall asleep again.

"Come on, it's two in the afternoon, Sleeping Beauty." He teased the resting boy. "You're soaked in sweat and cum, you stink."

"Eat my shorts." Bart yawned, trying not blush at the comment Bob had said so calmly. It had been a while since he said that old 'catchphrase'. He just…grew out of it.

As if hearing his thoughts, Bob smirked, "Eat your shorts? My, my…that's something dug up. If you don't get up and shower with me, I'll take pictures and post them on the inter- AH!" Bob didn't get the chance to finish for his sentence ended with a surprised yelp. In a matter of seconds, Bart had opened his eyes and, ignoring the sensitivity to the bright sun streaming through the window, threw himself upon Bob.

The couple fell on the cool ground, Bart latching his lips onto Bob's. Despite the yelp he had given earlier, Bob was now moaning softly. The young man had gained a lot of experience, sucking on Bob's tongue. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their legs on the bed while their bodies were on the ground.

Pulling away, Bob gasped for air. "…net." He finished his sentence just to be smug.

Bart chuckled breathlessly and stood up, "Race you to make breakfast!"

"It's two in the afternoon though!" Bob followed the boy's footsteps, running down the stairs carefully.

Turning, and making Bob slam into him, he said, "I know, let's call it…Lunfast!"

Shaking his head, Bob chuckled and messed up Bart's already-messy hair. Their lips touched softly. "To think this all started at a log cabin packed under snow…cold snow like my heart."

Bart blushed and kissed him again, "I'll never forget that day…"

"Likewise…" Bob's arms were now wrapped around the teenager's waist, holding him possessively. "…the day the snow melted…the day my heart melted…" He was murmuring to himself. "I love you Bart Simpson…"

"I love you too Robert Terwilliger."

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The end! If you want to speed up my new story, write your own lol. Seriously, I LOVE reading anything about Bob XD Lol. Once again, I was so sad to end this but am so happy I can start fresh! Thanks to everyone!


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